THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 

OF  CALIFORNIA 

RIVERSIDE 


FROM  THE  LIBRARY 

OF 
DR.  J.  LLOYD  EATON 


.'♦ 


MAD   SIR   UCHTRED 
OF   THE    HILLS 


*fi- 


.^>^^<^ 


MAD    SIR   UCHTRED 
OF  THE  HILLS 


^^A 


S.   R.  CROCKETT 

Author  of 
"  The  Raiders,"  "  The  Stickit  Minister,"  etc. 


ycijj  iorft 
MACMILLAN   AND   COMPANY 

AND    LONDON 
1894 

All  rights  r nerved 


Copyright,  1894, 
By  MACMILLAN  AND  CO. 


Set  up  and  electrotyped  July,  1894.    Reprinted 
August,  1894. 


Norfaool!  13r«B : 

J,  8.  CushinK  &  Co.  —  Berwick  &  Smith. 
Boston,  Mass.,  U.S.A. 


TO 

Bab  lb  fllasson 

IN  GRATITUDE,  AFFECTION 
AND  REVERENCE 


CONTENTS. 


PAGE 
I.      NEBUCHADNEZZAR   ON   CLASHDAAN         .         I 

II.  THE  WATERFLY 7 

III.  A  POPINJAY   IN   RED   AND   GREEN             .  19 

IV.  THE  CURSE  OF  ALEXANDER    RENFIELD  3$ 
V.  THE    VISIONS    OF     SIR     UCHTRED     ON 

CLASHDAAN 5^ 

VI.      GIBBIE  THE  HUNTER  CASTS  HIS  BREEKS      70 
VII.      WISE    HELEN,     BABE     ISBEL,   AND    BOY 

PIERCE 87 

VIII.      THE  FACE  AT   THE   WINDOW 

IX.      THE  BEAST-MAN  .... 
X.      THE  WIFE'S   QUEST  ON   CLASHDAAN 
XI.      HUNTED  WITH   DOGS    . 
Xn.      BROTHER   AND   BROTHER        . 
XIII.      WHERE  A    LITTLE  CHILD    SHALL   LEAD    181 

vii 


lOI 

119 
134 
151 
163 


Advertisement. 

He  that  tells  the  tale  bears  witness  that  the 
hereafter  to  be  mentioned  Sir  Uchtred  of 
Garthland  is  not  that  William  Mac  Dowall 
of  Garthland  in  the  parish  of  Stoney  Kirk, 
who  was  a  most  constant  and  serious  profes- 
sor and  defender  of  the  Covenants  National 
and  Solemn  League,  and  several  times  at/ier- 
ciat  to  the  spoiling  of  his  goods  by  David 
Graham,  sometime  Sheriff  of  Wigtoiin.  The 
kindly  reader  will  take  carefully  this  adver- 
tisement, both  for  truth'' s  sake,  and  still  more, 
that  the  tale  teller  may  dwell  at  peace  in  his 
07un  land,  where  men  have  long  memories, 
and  one  may  not  speak  hastily  of  another 
man''s  kin.    So  all  shall  be  well. 


IX 


CHAPTER  I. 


NEBUCHADNEZZAR  ON  CLASHDAAN. 


:AD  Sir  Uchtred  of 
Garthland  sat  in  the 
^^- x,-^  place  that  is  called  the 
Hass  of  the  Wolf's  Slock.  It 
lies  on  the  hoary  side  of  Clash- 
daan,  whence  all  the  Dungeon 
of  Buchan  is  seen  to  swim  be- 
neath like  a  blue  cauldron  shot 
with  the  silver  threads  of  still 
and  sleeping  waters. 

They    had    hunted    him    with 
dogs     that    day.      He     was     no 


2  Mad  Sir  Uchtred 

longer  Sir  Uchtred  of  Garth- 
land,  but  only  the  beast-man  of 
the  hills,  accursed  of  God,  out- 
cast of  man,  and  the  quarry  of 
the  hunters. 

Had  you  asked  Wild  Sir 
Uchtred  himself  who  he  was, 
and  if  in  that  moment  he  had 
not  flown  at  your  throat,  he 
might  have  said,  "  I  am  that 
King  Nebuchadnezzar  of  Baby- 
lon, whom  God  hath  driven 
forth  to  be  a  beast  of  the  field." 

But  Uchtred  the  Wild  Man 
spake  not  so.  He  only  sat  on 
the  side  of  Clashdaan,  and 
laughed,    thrusting    forward    his 


Of  the  Hills.  3 

shaggy  head  to  look  over  the 
diff,  as  an  eagle  cranes  his  neck 
to  watch  the  strifes  of  kites 
and  crows  far  below  his  eyrie. 
Uchtred  the  Wild  Man  smote 
his  thigh  and  laughed,  a  strange 
cackle  of  elricht  laughter  which 
made  the  blood  of  men  run 
cold  when  they  listened  to  it 
unawares.  It  was  not  a  good 
thing  to  hear  the  maniac  thing 
laugh  on  the  hillside  all  alone.  . 
Yet  time  had  been  when  Sir 
Uchtred  of  Garthland  was  a 
belted  knight  and  stood  at  the 
King's  knee.  Nay,  in  the  day 
of   little    David    Crookback,    his 


4  Mad  Sir  Uchfred 

father  had  risen  against  his 
King  with  fifty  stout  Dowalls 
of  Garthland  and  MacCullochs 
of  Myrtoun  behind  him. 

But  in  the  day  of  Scotland's 
skaith  Uchtred  of  Garthland 
forgot  the  blessed  Covenants  that 
his  father  had  sworn.  It  was 
a  common  thing  to  forget  them 
in  those  days.  Kings  set  the 
example.  But  God  so  ordained 
it  that  none  forgat  them  and 
prospered.  Now  Uchtred  of 
Garthland  was  worse  than  any 
—  except  only  crafty  Lauderdale 
the  Fox,  who  sat  in  the  Cham- 
ber of  Stars  and  hissed  the  hell- 


Of  the  Hills.  5 

hounds  on.  So  now  the  Man 
Beast  sat  in  the  Hass  of  the 
Wolf's  Slock. 

The  Thing  that  laughed  at 
the  baffled  hunters  on  the  Clints 
of  Clashdaan  had  wife  and 
bonny  bairns  but  three  years 
agone ;  and  my  lady  of  Garth- 
land  sat  in  the  tower  by  the 
waterside  and  wept  for  Uch- 
tred,  whom  a  just  God  had  cast 
out  of  his  regality.  This  was 
how  the  matter  came  to  pass. 

It  was  the  time  of  shuttinc: 
kirks  and  testing  ministers,  and 
Garthland,  with  the  earl's  coro- 
net    before     him,    abjured     the 


6  Mad  Sir  Ucbtred. 

Covenants  as  though  he  had 
never  sworn  them,  and  set  him- 
self with  all  his  men  to  do  the 
King's  will.  About  Whitehall 
and  Hampton  Court  the  King 
was  merry  among  his  lemans, 
and  in  Scotland  so  also  was 
Garthland  among  the  Whigga- 
mores  of  the  west.  To  each 
man  his  work  and  his  desire. 

But  God  over  all. 

And  that  is  the  way  Sir 
Uchtred  sat  on  Clashdaan. 


CHAPTER   II. 

THE    WATERFLY. 

FAIR  place  when  in 
the  morning  the  sun 
shines  is  the  Italianate 
Terrace  at  Garthland.  Sir  Uch- 
trcd  had  newly  planted  it  about 
with  dwarfish  foreicfn  trees  when 
he  brought  home  from  out  of 
the  French  convent  his  young 
and  gently  bred  wife,  Philippa. 
Among  the  rude  Dowalls  noth- 
ing so  stranire  and  rare  as  Phil- 
ippa    Forrester    had    ever    been 

7 


8  Mad  Sir  Ucbtred 

seen.  The  simplest  thing  that 
she  put  on  became  her  like  the 
Queen's  coronation  robe,  and 
she  wore  it  with  a  difference. 
At  every  weapon-shawing  she 
bore  the  palm.  And  the  men 
waited  on  her,  louting  low  at  all 
the  kirk  doors,  while  Sir  Uchtred 
scowled  at  them  proudly  and 
securely  from  beneath  his  bent 
brows. 

For  Uchtred  had  won  her 
love,  a  thing  which  is  none  so 
common  with  young  convent- 
bred  brides.  By  many  a  long 
Scots  mile  he  was  the  best  man, 
as  men  in  their  war  gear  meas- 


Of  the  Hills.  9 

ure  goodness,  in  all  the  sheriff- 
dom of  Wigtoun,  and  the  eyes 
of  Philippa  his  wife  told  him  so. 
To  each  gentle  Agnew,  hand- 
some Maxwell,  hectoring  Ken- 
nedy, and  Stewart  with  the  sprig 
in  his  cap,  this  convent-bred  lass 
gave  the  back  of  her  hand  when 
they  bent  over  her  saddle  leather. 

But  one  only  kept  on  wearying 
her  with  the  slow  persistence  of 
liis  wooing,  and  he  even  the 
nearest  of  kin  to  her  husband, 
Randolph  Dowall,  half  brother 
of  Sir  Uchtred. 

Randolph,  though  half  a 
dozen    of    years    younger    than 


lo         Mad  Sir  Uchtred 

his  brother,  had  been  in  France 
with  the  King  in  the  clays  when 
his  most  Sacred  Majesty  spent 
much  time  writing  promises  to 
the  well  affected,  who  would  be 
likely  to  send  him  either  money 
or  gear.  Then  Randolph,  being 
but  a  boy,  had  ruffled  it  with 
the  best  among  the  press  at  St. 
Germain,  and  worn  the  King's 
shoulder  knot.  But  Sir  Uchtred 
had  dipped  his  sword  red  at  a 
time  when  the  King  found  small 
comfort  in  shoulder  knots. 

Yet  Randolph,  being  brought 
up  in  the  French  manner,  be- 
lieved that  he  had  but  to  swing 


Of  the  Hills.  ii 

his  curled  hat  feather,  and  mince 
upon  his  toes  as  he  walked,  in 
order  to  win  a  lady's  favour. 
But  Philippa  Dowall  had  begun 
to  teach  him  better  of  it.  They 
paced  the  terrace  together,  and 
twice  in  every  turn  they  passed 
under  the  eyes  of  Sir  Uchtred, 
where  he  sat  gloomily  apart  in 
his  own  little  chamber,  at  times 
busking  his  war  gear,  and  by 
whiles  reading  in  a  new  book 
by  the  Duke  of  Lauderdale,  his 
chaplain,  called  "The  Spirit  of 
Popery,"  which  pleased  him 
much. 

As  well  almost  as  though  he 


12         Mad  Sir  Uchfred 

had  heard  their  words  as  they 
walked  the  terrace,  Sir  Uchtred 
knew  what  was  being  said.  Yet 
he  was  not  at  all  jealous  of  his 
wife,  knowing  that  to  him  no 
least  cause  was  given,  for  her 
heart  was  wholly  his,  and  her 
honour  all  her  own.  As  she 
went  by  she  sometimes  flouted 
him  with  a  gay  hand,  and  bade 
him  come  out  and  join  them  for 
a  lazy  drone. 

But,  all  the  same,  a  slow  fire 
burned  in  his  heart  against  his 
brother,  who  thus  flaunted  it  in 
silken  bravery  by  his  lady's  side. 
Yet  he  it  was  who  so  liberally 


Of  the  Hills.  13 

supplied  Randolph  with  money 
to  send  to  Paris  for  the  gawcy 
attire  of  silk  and  lace  which  so 
well  set  off  his  fair  head  and 
slim  body.  Sir  Uchtred  was 
willing  that  his  brother  should 
break  his  fool's  heart  against 
his  wife's  will ;  but,  deep  within 
him,  he  hated  his  brother,  and 
meant  one  day  to  take  his  life. 
In  the  meantime,  however,  he 
sat  within  and  read  the  precious 
doctrine  of  Doctor  George 
Hickes,  and  laughed  as  he  read, 
for  they  were  words  that  pleased 
him  well. 

Without    on    the    terrace    the 


14        Mad  Sir  Uchtred 

talk  went  merrily,  for,  being  con- 
vent-bred, Philippa  had  skill  in 
her  words,  and  also  much  delight 
in  them. 

She  mocked  gaily  at  Ran- 
dolph and  his  fervent  protesta- 
tions, shaking  the  while  a  little 
spray  of  May  blossom  in  her 
hand,  from  Vv^hich  the  small 
milky  petals,  a  little  over-ripe, 
shed  themselves  fragrantly  as 
she  walked.  Randolph  Dowall 
bethought  him  that  he  had 
never  seen  anything  so  fair,  and 
sighed  as  he  passed  his  hand 
through  his  scented  love-locks, 
wondering  if  ever  in  the  way  of 


Of  the  Hills.  15 

love  he  should  win  to  touch  her 
hand. 

And  Sir  Uchtred  watched  him 
keenly,  and  because  he  was  his 
brother,  he  knew  all  that  was  in 
his  mind.  Then  he  reached  back 
his  hand  to  where,  swinging  at 
the  belt  of  his  buff  riding  coat, 
his  great  basket-hilted  sword 
hung.  His  hand  gripped  the 
sheath  six  inches  from  the  point. 

That,  thought  Sir  Uchtred, 
grimly,  were  enough. 

This  is  how  they  talked  upon 
the  Italianate  Terrace  without. 

"Go  hence  and  scent  thy  ring- 
lets, waterfly!  "  scorned  Philii)pa, 


1 6        Mad  Sir  Uchfred 

flicking  the  branch  of  May  blos- 
som at  the  winking  dandeHons 
in  the  grass,  "  I  have  no  need  for 
the  service  of  men-maids.  But 
at  Castle  Stewart  the  lady  com- 
plained to  me  on  Sunday,  after 
Mess  John  made  an  end  of  ser- 
vice, concerning  the  rudeness  of 
her  maidens.  She  hath  need  of 
the  like  of  thee.  Thou  art  not 
rude,  waterfly ! " 

And  as  she  spoke  she  laughed 
tinklingly  in  her  throat,  like 
water  that  runs  over  loose  peb- 
bles in  a  shallow  place,  mightily 
pretty  to  hear. 

"  Wherefore  does  it  please  you 


Of  the  Hills.  17 

to  be  cruel,  lady  of  my  love  ? " 
said  Randolph,  trying  to  anger 
her  with  his  words. 

But  she  only  laughed  again 
merrily,  till  one  heard  the  water 
of  the  beck  laugh  also  in  the 
sunshine  for  company.  And  in 
his  study  Sir  Uchtred  laughed, 
but  otherwise,  for  his  mirth 
made  no  sound. 

" '  Lady  of  thy  love, ' "  scoffed 
Philippa,  "hath  a  popinjay  a 
love  ?  Can  a  waterfly  be  amor- 
ous ?  I  saw  one  only  this  morn- 
ing, caressing  his  own  silly 
crown,  and  smoothing  down 
his  shining  wings.      Is  not  that 


1 8        Mad  Sir  Uchtred. 

rather  the  way  of  the  waterfly  ? 
No,  Randolph,  do  not  thou 
meddle  with  love-making,  I  pray 
thee.  After  all,  that  is  a  man's 
matter." 

"  It  pleases  you  to  be  witty, 
my  lady,"  replied  Randolph, 
"  but  know  that  hearts  break 
under  silken  doublets  as  mine 
is  breaking  for  you,  for  even  a 
glinting  waterfly  may  love  — 
aye,  and  die  of  it  too ! " 


CHAPTER    III. 

A    POPINJAY    IN    RED    AND    GREEN. 

;T  that  Philippa  Dow- 
all's  laughter  pealed 
merrily,  rising  gaily- 
over  the  roof-trees  of  Garthland 
New  Place. 

"  Uchtred,"  she  cried,  "  old 
sobersides,  come  out,  here  is 
something  better  than  books. 
Do  you  hear  what  says  this 
brother  of  thine.'*  He  is  a  wit 
—  a  perfect  pastrycook  of  dainty 


20        Mad  Sir  Ucbtred 

devices.  His  cates  be  much  to 
my  taste." 

Sir  Uchtred  came  to  the  win- 
dow of  his  study,  which  stood 
open. 

*'  What  says  my  good 
brother?  He  has,  indeed,  a 
very  pretty  wit,  albeit  he  wears 
it  not  often  on  me." 

"  He  says,"  cried  Philippa, 
making  a  pretty  wilful  mouth, 
"  that  the  waterfiies  in  the 
meadow  oft  break  their  hearts 
all  for  the  love  of  a  lady.  Then 
they  fall  into  the  river  and  the 
trout  G:et  them.  So  even  I  have 
seen  them  do.     It  is  wonderfully 


Of  tbe  Hills,  21 

observed.  I  had  not  known  the 
reason  heretofore,  though  in  the 
convent  I  read  of  Dame  Berners 
and  her  Angle." 

But  Randolph  kept  his  sulky 
silence,  and  twisted  the  lace  of 
his  sleeve  between  his  fingers. 
The  daintily  mocking  Philippa 
trilled  upon  her  merry  way, 
drollinf{  with  the  idea,  while  Sir 
Uchtred  stood  with  his  finger 
between  the  slim  vellum  covers 
of  Doctor  Hickes  and  gloomed 
—  well  pleased  with  his  wife,  but 
hating  his  brother  no  whit  less 
than  if  he  had  won  all  her  heart 
from  him. 


22         Mad  Sir  Uchtred 

"  And  a  popinjay,  methinks 
you  said,"  went  on  Philippa, 
"  a  popinjay  is  a  very  love-sick 
fowl.  Providence  is  wise,  and 
made  nothing  in  vain.  So  he 
made  the  popinjay  to  be  love- 
sick, for  who  can  eat  a  popinjay } 
Or  who  desires  twice  to  hear  a 
popinjay  sing  }  Or  can  a  popin- 
jay pull  a  string  and  fire  a 
cannon  like  those  golden  birds 
of  FortuG^al  which  the  Italian 
with  curled  locks  showed  me  at 
Holyrood  ?  " 

"  Nay,"  muttered  Sir  Uchtred, 
"  nor  yet  can  a  popinjay,  like 
the  silly  cuckoo,  lay  his  Qgg  in 
another  bird's  nest." 


Of  tbe  Hills.  23 

"  I  will  buy  you  a  popinjay, 
my  lady  Philippa,  since  you  love 
them  so,"  said  Randolph,  pluck- 
ing up  heart  of  grace,  "  a  sailor 
at  the  Garlics  hath  one  green 
and  red." 

"  I  pray  you  do  not  so,"  cried 
the  lady  Philippa,  in  gaily 
affected  terror.  "  We  cannot 
have  two  in  the  house,  and 
already  we  have  one  in  blue  and 
yellow !  A  popinjay  in  green 
and  red  were  too  much  mercy. 
We  should  lose  distinction  in 
our  joys." 

Yet  Randolph,  since  he  could 
tliink    on    nothing    better,    went 


24        Mad  Sir  Ucbtred 

down  to  the  Garlics,  ridinG: 
upon  his  well  caparisoned  horse, 
with  the  little  silver  rings  clink- 
ing and  jingling  on  his  bridle 
reins.  There  by  the  tiny  port 
he  found  the  sailor,  and  of  him 
he  bought  the  popinjay,  which 
stood  in  the  sunlight  upon  a 
perch  and  screamed  at  the  tat- 
tered bairns  of  the  place,  who 
called  it  "papish  crow"  and 
other  names  of  approbium. 

For  a  piece  of  gold  and  a 
paper  of  the  black  Virginian 
herb  which  is  beloved  of  sailors, 
Randolph  acquired  the  bird  and 
bore     it    screaming    and    chat- 


Of  the  Hills.  25 


tering     to     Garthland     on     the 
brae. 


"And  who  would  buy  a  popinjay 
To  win  a  ladfs  love?'' 

chaunted  Philippa  of  Garthland, 
as  she  saw  Randolph  come. 
And  she  called  her  husband  out 
to  admire. 

Then  when  Uchtrcd  had  cfone 
again  within,  his  brother  came 
to  Philii)pa  to  offer  the  popin- 
jay. 

"  I  brought  it  for  your  bower," 
said  he.  "  So  gay  a  bird  did  but 
ill  become  the  cabin  of  a  tarry 
sailor." 


26         Mad  Sir  Uchtred 

"  Even  as  so  gay  a  bird  as  the 
civer  doth  but  ill  beseem  the 
New  Place  of  Garthland.  Why 
do  not  you  go  to  the  court 
where  you  might  flaunt  it  to 
your  liking?  There  be  dames 
a  many  there  who  would  give 
thee  love  for  thy  popinjays,  good 
brother  ! "  said  Philippa,  more 
seriously,  speaking  most  like  a 
tender  elder  sister. 

"  My  court  is  where  my 
Queen  is  !  "  replied  Randolph, 
who  was  indeed  a  very  pretty 
courtier. 

"  And  I  pray  thee  which 
Queen  "i  "       queried       Philippa, 


Of  the  Hills.  27 

softly,    yet    with     a    dangerous 
light  in  her  fringed  eyes. 

'*  There  is  but  one  Queen  for 
me  in  Garthland  or  elsewhere," 
said  Randolph  Do  wall,  twirling 
his  scented  locks  in  the  Italian 
manner,  and  letting  his  blue  eyes 
court  for  him. 

"  I  woo  her  in  the  erlie's  hall, 
I  woo  her  in  the  byre ; 
In  silks  or  simple  cleading, 
She's  the  queen  of  heart's  desire  !  " 

This  is  the  verse  that  the  Lady 
of  Garthland  lilted  gaily  with 
the  light  of  saucy  scorn  in  her 
eyes.  Yet  was  she  not  so  safe 
as  she  thoui^ht  —  for    it    is  ever 


28         Mad  Sir  Uchtred 

dangerous,  even  in  a  good  cause, 
to  sit  in  the  scorner's  chair. 

"  Kate  !  "  she  called,  raising 
her  voice  to  reach  her  chamber 
lattice. 

A  waiting  maid  appeared  — 
no  jimp  handmaid  of  the  courts 
of  Whitehall,  but  a  blowsed 
daughter  of  the  moors.  Yet 
was  she  not  uncomely,  save  that 
her  hands  were  coarsened  with 
toil,  but  her  teeth  and  her  eyes 
glistened  as  she,  the  gypsy, 
smiled  a  smile  even  saucier  than 
that  of  her  mistress. 

"  Kate, "  cried  the  Lady  of 
Garthland,  "do  you  love  popin- 


Of  the  Hills.  29 

jays  ?  Here  is  one  for  you  with 
the  love  of  the  giver! " 

"  An'  wha's  the  gi'er,  an'  wha's 
the  braw  wooer  ?  "  cried  Kate 
Kennedy,  in  llie  broad  speech 
of  the  place,  and  the  clacking 
accent  of  the  moors. 

"  Why,  even  Randolph  of 
Garthland.  He  gives  you  his 
love  and  service,  Kate.  He  has 
to  spare  of  these.  He  finds 
queens  on  every  berry  bush  !  " 

"Juist  let  him  try  it,  I  daur 
him  to  come  ncr  me !  "  cried 
Kate,  stamping  her  foot,  "  I'se 
e'en  <^ic  him  what  I  ^ied  him  i' 
the  byre  yestreen." 


30        Mad  Sir  Uchtred 

"And  what  was  that?  "  queried 
her  mistress,  as  one  who  knows 
beforehand. 

"  E'en  a  pair  o'  weel  daudit 
lugs!"  said  Kate,  with  fire  spark- 
ling in  her  eyes. 

"  But  he  has  brought  you  a 
gay  popinjay,  Kate.  What  say 
you  to  that  ?  "  laughed  Philippa 
of  Garthland,  drolling  with  her 
eyes  on  Randolph,  till  the  court- 
ier blushed  and  swore  softly  un- 
der his  breath.  More  he  dared 
not,  lest  she  should  call  forth 
Uchtred  his  brother,  who  sat  at 
his  window  and  read  of  Whig 
killings. 


Of  the  Hills.  $i 

"  See  the  popinjay  your  lover 
has  brought  you,  Kate  ? "  and 
she  plucked  lightly  and  roguishly 
at  its  gaudy  tail,  till  the  bird 
screamed  with  anger. 

"  Deil  tak'  him  an'  his  bird 
baith,"  cried  Kate,  "  I  canna 
bide  skraichin'  parrots.  They 
are  the  deil's  birds." 

"  An'  what  bird  do  you  like, 
Kate }  "  queried  her  mistress. 

"  Deed,"  replied  Kate,  with 
some  fervour,  "  I  am  partial  maist 
o'  a'  to  a  guid  clockin'  hen." 

"  But  that  is  not  a  fine  lover's 
gift  like  a  po})injay,"  said  Phil- 
ippa. 


32         Mad  Sir  Uchtred 

"  Na,  they  hae'na  that  muckle 
sense,"  quoth  Kate  Kennedy. 
"They  are  but  feckless  folk  — 
a  silly  clan,  gowks  run  wud  !  " 

Kate  was  a  woman  of  experi- 
ence in  lovers. 

"  You  hear,  Master  Randolph ! " 
said  Philippa,  as  Kate  returned 
to  her  own  domains  in  the 
kitchen  wing  of  Garthland. 

*'  Why  are  you  so  cruel } " 
asked  Randolph,  as  they  paced 
the  terrace. 

"  Cruel !  thou  silly  boy,"  she 
answered,  though  she  was 
younger  far  than  he,  "  I  am  not 
cruel   to  love  when  it  is  honest 


Of  the  Hills.  33 

love.  Love  a  maid,  Randolph, 
and  marry  her  as  did  your 
brother " 

"  My  brother,"  Randolph 
scoffed,  with  a  fleer  of  his  hand 
—  which,  however,  he  had  better 
have  let  alone,  for  from  his  win- 
dow in  the  house  of  Garthland 
Uchtred  saw  and  hated  his 
brother  with  a  still  and  deadly 
hatred  —  the  hate  that  can  let 
pass  ninety-nine  opportunities 
and  kill  at  the  hundredth. 

"  Aye,  your  brother,"  said  the 
loyal  lady,  "  tliink  not  that  I  am 
as  the  ladies  of  the  court.  I  i)ut 
not    on    a    new    love    willi    each 

D 


34         Mad  Sir  Uchtred. 

year's  spring  attiring.  An  such 
liketh  you,  there  be  plenty  of 
them  at  Whitehall,  who  hon- 
estly love  dishonestly.  It  is 
their  boast.  His  sacred  Majesty 
(whom  may  God  save  according 
to  his  need)  hath  heard  of  such. 
For  me  I  like  it  better  to  bide  in 
Garthland  and  teach  the  bairns 
their  prayers." 


CHAPTER  IV. 

THE    CURSE    OF     ALEXANDER     REN- 
FIELD. 

jT  was  a  fine  summer 
day  in  high  June,  when 
the  orchards  at  Garth- 
land  were  all  a-flush  with  the 
blossom  that  brings  the  goodly 
fruit,  and  the  leaves  were  very 
green.  Sir  Uchtred,  who  now 
stood  for  his  King  against  all 
religions  —  he  that  had  borne 
the  silver  cups  when  the  tables 
were   set   white  and   fair   in    the 


35 


36         Mad  Sir  Uchtred 

house  of  the  Lord  —  took  horse 
and  rode.  Sixteen  bold  troopers 
of  the  King  were  at  his  back  to 
do  his  will,  ready  to  kill  man 
and  kiss  maid  in  the  King's 
name,  as  was  rare  sport  in  the 
country  of  the  Whigs.  But 
Randolph,  his  brother,  abode  at 
home  and  played  with  Pierce, 
son  of  Philippa  and  Uchtred, 
upon  the  Italianate  Terrace.  He 
taught  the  child  to  sit  his  horse 
like  a  man  while  his  brother  did 
the  sterner  work  of  his  lord  the 
King. 

For  they  rode  that  day  to  turn 
out  of  his  kirk  and  manse  Alex- 


Of  the  Hills.  37 

ander  Renfield,  the  minister  of 
Kirkchrist,  whom  the  people 
loved.  An  hour  afterwards, 
clattering  in  iron  and  bravery, 
Uchtred  of  Garthland  turned 
his  bridle  and  rode  up  the  kirk 
loanine:.  As  he  came  under 
the  wall  of  the  manse  the  lilac 
blossom  hung  overhead ;  and 
Uchtred,  having  sword  in  hand, 
in  wantonness  cut  a  branch  of 
the  scented  blossom  and  caught 
it  as  it  fell. 

There  was  a  great  silence  in 
the  kirk  as  tlic  men  rode  for- 
ward. A  bronze-faced  conu:re- 
gation  sat  listening  to  one  who 


38         Mad  Sir  Ucbtred 

preached  to  them  from  an  old 
black  pulpit  over  which  hung 
a  sounding-board.  Every  man 
heard  the  trampling  of  the 
horses,  yet  none  so  much  as 
turned  his  head  about.  The 
minister  who  preached  was  a 
little  fair  man,  slender  and 
delicate.  It  seemed  as  though 
a  breath  of  wind  might  blovv^ 
him  away.  Yet  he  swayed  the 
folks'  hearts  as  the  breath  of 
God  that  blows  upon  the  trees 
of  the  forest. 

"  Christ  hath  a  folk  in  Scot- 
land that  shall  not  fail  Him, 
though   the   horse  and  his  rider 


Of  the  Hills.  39 

trample  them  under  foot,  yet 
shall  they  that  love  the  Lord 
not  be  utterly  cast  down."  So 
ran  the  sermon,  and  the  people 
listened. 

With  that  Sir  Uchtred  of 
Garthland  set  the  hilt  of  his 
sword  to  the  door  and  drave  it 
open,  both  leaves  of  it  clashing 
back  arrainst  the  wall.  Then 
bowing  his  head,  but  not  for 
meekness,  upon  his  horse's  neck, 
he  rode  in,  armed  as  he  was  — 
into  the  quiet  and  solemn  house 
of  prayer.  The  spray  of  cut  lilac 
bloom  from  the  manse  wall  was 
in  his  hand,  and  the  babe  in  the 


40         Mad  Sir  Uchtrecl 

arms  of  the  minister's  wife  crowed 
tor  pluck  at  it  as  the  war-horse 
clattered  up  the  aisle.  Then  in 
the  narrow  seats  the  men  stood 
up,  grim  and  silent,  while  the 
women  sat  and  trembled,  some 
crying  out  to  God  to  help  them 
in  their  trouble. 

But  the  little  fair  man  in  the 
pulpit,  that  had  feared  the  face 
of  God  all  his  days,  feared  not 
the  face  of  man.  Perhaps  no 
man  who  truly  docs  the  one  can 
do  the  other.  He  put  out  his 
hand  with  a  gesture  of  command 
to  the  people  and  to  the  intruder, 
as  a  general  who  halts  a  squad- 


Of  the  Hills.  41 

ron.  "  Uchtrcd  Dowall  of  Garth- 
land,  perjured  and  mans  worn,  in 
the  name  of  the  Lord  I  arrest 
thee  from  coming  further." 

And  Sir  Uchtred,  though  a 
proud  man,  stayed.  But  for  all 
that,  he  cried  the  King's  com- 
mission for  the  taking  of  Alex- 
ander Renfield,  because  of 
nonconformity  and  resisting  the 
King's  authority  for  the  shutting 
up  of  the  kirk,  and  the  warranty 
for  the  poinding  of  his  goods 
and  chattels  which  were  escheat 
to  the  Crown. 

So  the  little  fair  man  came 
down.      But    even  as  he  was  on 


42         Mad  Sir  Ucbtred 

the  stairway  he  turned  him  about 
and  laid  his  hand  on  the  pulpit 
door,  saying,  "  Alexander  Rcn- 
field  hath  steeked  thee  in  the 
name  of  Most  High  God.  See 
and  bide  thou  shut  till  the  Lord 
send  a  man  to  open  thee  in  his 
own  good  time." 

Then  he  lifted  his  hand  and 
got  him  down.  Which  thing 
came  to  pass  to  the  admiration 
of  the  people  of  Kirkchrist ;  for 
the  curate  of  Langloan  essaying 
a  year  after  that  to  open  the 
door,  was  hindered  by  a  spirit 
that  withstood  him,  and  perhaps 
also  by  the  memory  of  the  curse 


Of  the  Hills.  43 

of  Alexander  Renfield,  for  all  the 
people  of  Kirkchrist  held  him  to 
be  a  prophet.  And,  when  out 
of  liquor,  all  the  curates  were 
very  superstitious. 

So  they  shut  to  the  door  of 
the  kirk,  and  the  minister  stood 
quiet  and  silent  between  two 
troopers  while  they  turned  the 
slender  gear  that  was  in  the 
manse  out  upon  the  green.  And 
the  minister's  wife  stood  by  the 
little  grey  sundial  and  saw  all 
the  plenishing  that  she  had 
brought  fr(jm  her  home  made 
into  a  heap  —  the  goodly  cloths 
she  had  spun  with  hope  in  her 


44        Mad  Sh  Uchtred 

heart,  and  the  httle  lovable 
thino-s  that  were  of  no  value  to 

O 

any,  but  dear  to  her  as  her  life. 
She  stood  with  her  bairns  in  her 
hand,  like  a  hen  that  gathers  her 
chickens,  as  near  to  her  husband 
as  they  would  let  her.  But  Vv^hen 
they  set  the  children's  cradle  on 
high  a-top  of  all,  and  Uchtred  of 
Garthland  cried  to  a  soldier  to 
set  his  match  to  the  rubbish- 
heap,  suddenly  she  wailed  aloud. 
It  was  only  for  the  cradle  that 
her  foot  would  rock  no  more. 
She  had  seen  so  many  flaxen 
heads  in  it,  and  some  of  them 
were  now   within    the    veil.     So 


Of  the  Hills.  45 

when  the  cradle  was  set  on  the 
heap  to  be  burned,  she  cried 
aloud  as  she  had  not  done  when 
God  took  her  bairns  themselves 
out  of  her  arms. 

Then  Alexander  Renfield  lifted 
up  his  voice  from  where  he  stood 
between  two  soldiers  with  his 
hands  tied  before  him.  He 
pointed  with  his  bound  wrists  to 
the  knight,  who  reined  his  horse 
and  looked  on  silently,  doing 
the  King's  work  and  Lauder- 
dale's. "  The  Lord  judge  be- 
tween thee,  Uchtrcd  Dowall  of 
Garthland,  and  me  that  am  but 
his  minister  in  Kirkchrist.     The 


46        Mad  Sir  Ucbtred 

Lord  do  so  to  thee  and  more 
also.  Thou  hast  made  desolate 
the  sweetest  roof -tree  that 
reeked  in  Galloway  this  day. 
See  that  thou  come  near  thine 
own  in  peace  this  night.  A 
greater  than  thou  art  ate  grass 
like  an  ox.  Thou  hast  built 
Garthland  where  it  shines  fair 
on  the  brae.  But  in  his  time 
King  Nebuchadnezzar  built 
Babylon,  that  was  of  marble 
and  greater  than  many  Garth- 
lands.  Yet  the  Lord  laid  him 
full  low.  Even  so  shall  he  do 
with  thee,  thou  bloody  and 
deceitful    man,    for    the    cry   of 


Of  the  Hills.  47 

the  mother  of  my  children  this 
day." 

Sir  Uchtred  of  Garthland 
pointed  with  his  sword  at  the 
minister  where  he  stood,  but 
his  tongue  gave  forth  no  word 
of  command.  For  even  then 
the  Lord's  hand  smote  him.  In 
a  moment  he  fell  from  pride, 
and  that  in  sight  of  all  the  peo- 
ple who  had  seen  him  ride  to 
the  kirk  door. 

As  a  strained  fiddle-string 
that  snaps,  so  a  chord  twanged 
in  his  head.  He  tossed  the 
lilac  branch  to  the  roof  of  the 
kirk,  and  so  fell   to   the  ground 


48        Mad  Sir  Ucbtred 

grovelling.  His  soldiers  ran  to 
him  to  help  him,  but  he  struck 
at  them,  gnashing  his  teeth 
and  foaming.  His  serving-man 
that  was  more  wicked  than 
himself  lifted  up  his  masters 
head;  but  Uchtred  of  Garth- 
land  bit  him  in  the  palm  till 
the  blood  ran  from  the  tips  of 
his  fingers.  After  a  little  they 
mastered  him  and  set  him  on 
the  horse  which  they  had 
brought  to  carry  the  minister. 
And  a  fear  fell  on  them  all,  so 
that  they  let  Alexander  Renfield 
go,  and  the  cavalcade  that  had 
ridden    up    so     bravely    moved 


Of  the  Hills.  49 

slowly  away  from  the  kirkyard 
of  Christ's  kirk.  Then  all  the 
people  rushed  forward  to  put 
out  the  fire  upon  the  green. 
And  Millicent  Renfield  stood 
with  her  children's  cradle  in  her 
arms  and  watched  the  troopers 
go.  Then  the  people  sang, 
Alexander  Renfield  leading 
them : 

"  For  His  mercies  aye  endure. 
Ever  faithful,  ever  sure." 

But  even  when  they  saw  as 
they  went  the  roofs  of  the  New 
Place  of  Garthland,  which  Sir 
Uchtred    had     built     with     the 


50        Mad  Sir  Uchtred 

fines  and  exactions  of  the 
Whio^s,  the  word  of  the  Lord 
by  the  mouth  of  Alexander 
Renfield,  whom  men  called  a 
prophet,  fell  like  a  fire-flaught 
when  the  thunder  gathers  on 
steep  Clashdaan.  Sir  Uchtred, 
having  the  power  of  one  pos- 
sessed with  a  devil,  caught 
suddenly  at  the  two  men  that 
held  him  on  his  horse  and  with 
the  strength  of  ten  he  rent 
them.  Then,  being  filled  with 
an  evil  spirit,  he  ran  with  sur- 
prising swiftness  across  the 
fields,  taking  burns  and  deep 
linns    in    his    stride,   and    over- 


Of  ibe  Hills. 


51 


leaping  rocks  and  fences  as  a 
deer  leaps,  so  that  the  horse- 
men were  left  far  behind  and 
could  not  by  any  means  lay 
hands  upon  him. 


CHAPTER   V. 

TPIE    VISIONS    OF    SIR    UCHTRED    ON 
CLASHDAAN. 

?#^OT-FOOT  he  fled  un- 
til over-passing  Cree 
(^  Water,  he  felt  under 
his  feet  the  ruc^c^ed  heather  of 
the  easterly  hills.  The  burns 
roared  in  his  ears.  Upon  steep 
Clashdaan  he  heard  the  tramp  of 
armed  men,  which  feared  him  so 
greatly  that  he  fled,  casting  his 
garments  abroad  in  the  way  as 
he  ran. 


52 


Mad  Sir  Ucbtred.        53 

From  top  to  top  among  the 
uttermost  hills  Sir  Uchtred  fled, 
Hstening  ever  for  the  yell  of 
viewless  hounds  and  the  cry  of 
questing  demons.  So  it  was  all 
the  day.  The  sun  of  that  Sab- 
bath of  judgment  rose  to  its 
meridian,  paused,  and  sank.  It 
beat  upon  the  throbbing,  restless 
head  of  the  madman  who  had  so 
lately  been  Sir  Uchtred  of  Garth- 
land.  Again  he  rose  and  fled, 
leaping  from  rock  to  rock  like 
the  wild  goat  on  the  hill. 

But  God  is  merciful  even  in 
the  midst  of  His  just  judgments 
upon   the   persecutor,  for  as    he 


54        Mad  Sir  Uchtred 

came  to  the  burn  of  Cul.sharg, 
which  comes  down  over  broad 
slats  of  granite  and  barren  screes 
of  rock,  roaring  white  the  while, 
He  caused  him  to  stumble  and 
fall.  The  madman  lay  with  his 
head  in  the  cold  wash  of  the 
water,  which  cooled  his  brain 
yet  covered  not  his  mouth. 

Then  the  night  came.  A  se- 
rene and  austere  coolness  settled 
down  on  the  hills.  The  world 
was  ver}'  full  of  sweet  air  to 
breathe.  The  bog  myrtle,  which 
men  name  "gall  of  the  hills," 
gave  forth  a  rare  smell,  and  Sir 
Uchtred  awoke  out  of  his  dream. 


Of  the  Hills.  55 

He  sat  on  the  heights  of  Ben 
Yellarav,  and  saw  the  stillness  of 
an  older  world  towards  Enoch. 
He  was  mother  naked  as  when 
God  made  him,  for  all  his  gay 
war  gear  was  scattered  upon  the 
way  to  Kirkchrist.  Yet  he  was 
not  a-cold.  His  madman's  blood 
ran  too  hotly.  But  he  grew  so 
sane  that  he  questioned  of  him- 
self how  he  came  thither.  In  a 
moment  more  he  had  asked  him- 
self why  he  sat  there  naked  as 
when  he  was  born,  and  perhaps 
in  the  asking  the  madness  had 
departed  from  him. 

But   out    of    the    stillness    he 


56         Mad  Sir  Ucbtred 

heard,  as  it  were,  the  cry  of  a 
young  child,  and  sometimes  it 
seemed  like  the  voice  of  his 
boy,  Pierce,  when  he  drove  his 
wooden  hobby-horses  at  his  play, 
and  sometimes  like  a  bairn  of 
the  hill-folk  yearning  and  crying 
for  a  father  who  had  never  come 
home  —  mad  Uchtred  knew  why. 
Then  for  the  first  time  was 
Uchtred  the  persecutor  afraid, 
and  fled,  hiding  his  face  in  his 
hands  ;  but  when  the  child's  wail- 
ing pursued  him,  he  became  an- 
gry and  longed  to  leap  upon 
it  to  throttle  it.  For  the  sound 
troubled  him. 


Of  the  Hills.  57 

So  he  turned,  and  like  an  ad- 
der among  the  heather  he  ghded 
towards  the  spot  whence  he  heard 
the  crying.     It  was  in  a  bush  of 
heather  with  great  grey  stones 
all    about.      Sir    Uchtred    made 
sure   of  the  spot,  for   he    noted 
the  heather  stir  as  with  the  rack- 
ing  sobs    of    the    young   bairn. 
Now  Sir  Uchtred  lay  very  still 
till  the  pity  of  the  babe's  sorrow 
caught  him  by  the  midriff,  and 
dry  sobs  rose  and  rent  him  in  the 
throat.      Then    he  sprang  upon 
the  clump  of  heather  where  he 
knew  the  child  lay  concealed,  his 
fingers  tense  and  jerking  for  the 


58         Mad  Sir  Uchlred 

grip  of  strangling.  But  he  only 
caught  the  heather  and  the  dry 
brown  bent.  Yet,  looking  up, 
before  him  in  the  midst  of  a 
kind  of  misty  light  he  was  aware 
of  a  young  child,  exceeding  fair, 
with  a  crown  of  sunlight  upon 
its  head,  and  about  its  neck  a 
thin,  wet,  scarlet  cord.  And  a 
young  voice  shrilled  in  his  ear, 
even  the  voice  which  he  had 
heard  wail  in  the  darkness,  and 
it  said : 

"  I  am  the  Babe  of  Bethlehem 
whom  ye  slew !  " 

And  the  voice  pierced  to  the 
dividing  of  his  marrow,  so  that 


Of  the  Hills.  59 

great  fear  fell  upon  the  man  who 
was  accursed  of  God. 

Yet  he  could  not  flee,  but  sat 
staring  crouched  in  the  heather 
bush  into  the  which  he  had 
sprung;  and  slowly  with  the  tink- 
ling of  cymbals  and  the  noise  of 
sweet  singing  the  portent  melted 
away. 

This  is  the  true  story  of  the 
first  vision  that  Sir  Uchtred  saw 
upon  Clashdaan. 

Airain  the  same  nio:ht  the 
madness  came  on  Sir  Uchtred 
and  he  fled  along  the  shaggy 
tops  of  the  lonely  hills,  till  on 
the    bare    scalp  of    the    Merrick, 


6o        Mad  Sir  Uchtred 

close  under  the  lift  with  all  the 
other  mountains  crouched  and 
dwarfed  beneath  him,  he  had  a 
vision.  He  saw  himself  like 
Lucifer,  Star  of  the  Morning, 
flash  out  of  the  blackness  be- 
tween the  tingling  points  of 
light,  for  a  moment  curve  in 
trailing  fire  across  the  firma- 
ment, and  plunge  into  the  lake 
of  eternal  fire  in  which  burn  for 
ever  all  the  sins  and  despairs  of 
the  universe. 

Sir  Uchtred  sprang  to  his  feet, 
and  there,  pinnacled  on  Mer- 
rick, he  raised  his  hands  to 
heaven     and     cried     out     in     a 


Of  the  Hills.  6i 

terrible  voice  which  only  God 
heard : 

"  A  fallen  star !  a  fallen  star !  " 

And  this  was  the  second  vision 
of  Mad  Sir  Uchtred  of  the  Hills. 

Aijain  Sir  Uchtred  saw  an- 
other  vision,  and  it  was  of  a 
table  set  with  holy  bread,  and 
the  clean  silver  cups  held  the 
wine  of  communion.  And  above 
the  bread  was  written  in  letters 
of  blood,  "  Whoso  eatcth  and 
drinketh  unworthily  is  guilty  of 
the  body  and  blood  of  the  Lord." 

And  Sir  Uchtred  cried  with  a 
great  and  bitter  cry,  for  surely 
he  had  eaten  and  drunken  in  the 


62         Mad  Sir  Uchtred 

liouse  of  God  —  yea,  and  borne 
too  the  silver  cup  of  the  wine  as 
the  elders  paced  slow  and  solemn 
to  the  tables  on  which  the  fair 
linen  cloths  were  laid. 

And  the  last  vision  that  Sir 
Uchtred  had  was  this.  It  was 
the  Last  Day,  and  he  saw  the 
heavens  run  together  as  a  fiery 
scroll,  and  the  earth  crumpled 
up  and  wrapped  in  the  fire  as  a 
child's  ball  is  wrapped  in  a  ker- 
chief. And  a  voice,  very  great 
and  mighty,  like  all  the  oceans 
of  the  world  falling  into  the  pit 
of  burning  pain,  cried  to  him : 

"  Thou  hast  refused  Christ  and 


Of  tbe  Hills.  63 

persecuted  Him.  Now  shall  all 
the  sins  of  the  world  be  laid  on 
thee  and  thou  shalt  bear  them 
all." 

So  before  his  eyes  he  saw  this 
great  red  ball  which  glowed  like 
molten  metal.  It  waxed  in  great- 
ness before  his  eyes  till  it  swal- 
lowed up  all  things.  Then  it  still 
grew  nearer  and  nearer  to  him 
till  he  felt  that  it  was  but  wait- 
inc:  to  en2:ulf  him.  And  these 
words  were  written  across  it: 


"THE   WRATH   AND  CURSE  OF  GOD." 


And     Sir     Uchtrcd    swooned 
away  for  the  terror  of  the  vision. 


64         Mad  Sir  Uchtred 

When  he  awoke  the  morning 
was  breaking  in  the  east.  The 
red  bars  of  cloud  glowed  like  a 
furnace  grate.  The  crest  of  the 
Dungeon  bristled  black  against 
the  fire.  There  was  no  sound, 
save  a  burn  soughing  somewhere 
in  the  hollows  of  the  hills.  But 
above  the  birds  cried  in  the 
dewy  chill  of  the  sunrising.  Sir 
Uchtred  came  to  himself,  and 
looked  about  him.  It  was  his 
hour. 

It  may  be  that,  had  he  thought 
on  his  sweet  wife  Philippa  or  his 
little  son  Pierce,  the  evil  spirit 
from    the    Lord   mi^rht  have  de- 


Of  the  Hills.  65 

parted  from  him ;  but  it  hap- 
pened (though  not  by  chance, 
as  unlearned  men  say)  that  his 
first  thoughts  fell  on  that  Alex- 
ander Renfield,  who  had  angered 
him  and  defied  him. 

"  I  shall  call  my  men  out 
quickly  and  harry  the  rebel. 
The  loons  bide  long  abed.  But 
an  they  haste  not,  I  shall  rattle 
their  bones  for  them." 

So  he  arose  and  set  his  matted 
and  dishevelled  hair  jauntily,  as 
it  had  been  a  cavalier's  hat.  He 
tightened  the  cord  at  his  waist, 
as  thouG:h  it  were  a  belt  and  a 
great     basket-hiltcd     brand    had 


66        Mad  Sir  Ucbtred 

swung  there.  He  thrust  ghostly 
pistols  within  it,  and  cried  the 
word  of  command  on  the  lone- 
some mountain-side  as  to  a  troop 
of  horse. 

Yet  all  the  while  he  knew  not 
that  he  was  naked,  and  that  his 
feet  were  cut  by  the  stones  of 
sharp  granite. 

Now  so  marvellous  are  the 
ways  of  the  Lord,  that  even  at 
that  moment  the  herd  that  is  in 
the  shieling  of  the  Laggan  and 
Robina  his  wife  declare  that  on 
the  steep  side  of  Clashdaan  they 
saw  a  troop  of  horsemen  exercis- 
ing, and  in  the  midst  they  clearly 


Of  the  Hills.  67 

noted  a  naked  man  upon  a  coal- 
black  horse.  The  troop  passed 
thwartwise  over  the  mountain 
steep,  where  not  a  dog  could 
stand,  thrice  turned  at  the  word 
of  command,  and  so  rode  back 
with  bits  clicking  and  stirrup 
irons  jingling.  Upon  the  sum- 
mit, ere  they  passed  from  sight, 
their  strange  leader  halted  them; 
with  a  great  roar  they  shot  off 
their  muskets,  and  so  vanished, 
the  smoke  of  the  powder  linger- 
ing long  in  the  clear  air.  There- 
after, waiting  the  space  of  several 
minutes,  the  herd  and  his  wife, 
thinking     it     rained,    saw     their 


68         Mad  Sir  Uchtred 

hands  and  the  stones  about  the 
onstead  spotted  as  with  blood, 
which  began  softly  to  fall  in 
broad  drops  and  splashes.  The 
herd  set  his  hand  to  his  lips,  and 
found  it  sweet  to  the  palate. 
Therefore  he  knew  that  it  was 
the  blood  of  the  martyrs.  So  he 
and  his  wife  went  immediately 
into  their  closet,  shutting  the 
door,  and  there  fell  to  their  exer- 
cises, knowing  that  they  had  in- 
deed saen  a  great  marvel. 

[This  is  in  the  original  ac- 
count of  these  transactions  com- 
piled by  order  of  the  United 
Societies,  attested  by  Alexander 


Of  the  Hills.  69 

Paton,  herd  in  Laggan  Cothouse, 
and  Robina  his  wife.  These  two 
are  certified  to  be  respectable 
and  God-fearing  people  by  the 
minister  and  session  of  the  So- 
cieties' meeting-house  at  Crce 
Brig.] 


CHAPTER  VI. 


GIBBIE      THE      HUNTER      CASTS     HIS 
BREEKS. 

g^ai  R         UCHTRED 
WAN  TING- WIT 

set  off  in  the  morn- 
ino;  lis^ht  all  alone  over  the 
heather.  It  was  the  clear  light 
of  the  morning,  and  the  man 
was  a  fearsome  sight  with  fall- 
ing upon  the  slippery  rocks 
and  shining  screes  of  the  hill- 
side. Yet  he  carried  himself  as 
though  he  were  riding  his  troop 
70 


Mad  Sir  Ucbtred.        71 

down  the  High  Street  of  Edin- 
burgh town  to  be  guard  to  his 
Majesty  at  Holyrood  House. 

The  wide  empty  spaces  rang 
with  his  words  of  command. 
He  shouted  blasphemies  if  the 
ghostly  squadron  did  not  wheel 
and  halt  to  his  mind.  He 
pointed  to  this  and  that  Whig's 
dwelling  who  should  receive  a 
domiciliary  visit  some  fine  day, 
and  have  his  goods  routed  out 
and  the  choice  of  the  Test  in 
his  throat  or  a  bullet  in  his 
gullet. 

At  last  he  came  where  there 
dwelt    a     tenant     of     his     own, 


72         Mad  Sir  Uchtred 

Gibbie  Macallister,  a  rough-rid- 
ing, swearing  blade,  and  the 
best  shot  with  a  musket  in  all 
the  countryside. 

"  Bide  where  ye  are ! "  cried 
Sir  Uchtred,  reining  up  in  front 
of  his  troop  of  phantasy.  "  I 
will  rout  out  Gibbie  to  ride 
forth  with  us  and  keep  us 
merry.  We  are  all  as  doleful 
as  psalmsingers  this  brave 
mornino:." 

So  he  went  to  the  rude,  low 
door  and  knocked  with  his 
knuckles  cavalierly,  thinking 
them  the  great  iron  hilt  of  his 
sword. 


Of  the  Hills.  73 

"  Whereaway,  Gibbie,  you 
drunken  dog !  Rise  and  ride, 
or  we  shall  break  the  door 
and  dowse  thee  with  thy  own 
watercan." 

There  was  a  stirring  within, 
but  no  word  of  opening. 

"  Undo  the  door,  Gibbie, 
thou  sot !  Thou  hast  been 
drunk  yestreen,  without  a 
doubt,  and  thy  greybeard  is 
empty.  Though  your  head  be 
like  a  red  gaud  of  iron,  to  ride 
a-Whig-hunting  will  do  thee 
good.  Open,  man  !  'Tis  I, 
Uchtred  of  Garthland." 

But    tlie    man    witliin    opened 


74         M'^id  Sir  Ucbtred 

not,  nor  did  Mad  Sir  Uchtrcd 
hear  any  sound ;  so  he  went 
round  the  house,  and  would 
have  thrust  his  hand  and  arm 
inside  the  narrow  and  deep-set 
window,  but  from  within  sud- 
denly a  musket  cracked,  and 
Sir  Uchtred  sprang  into  the 
air.  He  clapped  his  hand  to 
his  shoulder,  and  the  red  blood 
sprang  between  his  fingers, 
though  the  shot  had  done  no 
more  than  touch  him,  having 
come  as  near  to  missing  him 
as  bullet  could  come  and  yet 
take  effect. 

Sir  Uchtred  fled  back  to  the 


Of  the  Hills.  75 

braeface  and  threw  himself  on 
the  turf  by  the  burnside,  moan- 
ing like  a  beast  when  it  is  hurt. 
First  he  bit  at  the  place  whence 
the  blood  ran ;  then,  coming  a 
little  to  himself,  he  bathed  the 
wound  in  the  burn  water  that 
ran  through  the  hollow,  and 
bound  it  about  with  withes  and 
soft  curled  moss. 

In  a  moment  the  madman 
knew  that  his  visionary  troop 
was  gone  from  him,  and  that 
he  was  wounded  and  alone. 
Yet  was  he  but  the  more  dan- 
gerous; for  lie  lay  in  the  hollow 
where    he    could    be    seen    from 


76        Mad  Sir  Uchtred 

the  narrow  window  of  Gibbie 
Macallister's  cothouse. 

He  dragged  himself  out  of  the 
water  as  one  sore  hurt.  He 
bent  himself  double  with  simu- 
lated agony.  He  threw  himself 
hither  and  thither  as  though  in 
grips  with  death,  jerked  his 
hands  once  or  twice,  and  then 
lay  back,  relaxed  and  still.  Yet 
it  was  but  the  cunnino:  of  the- 
man-wanting-wit.  The  wound 
itself  was  no  more  to  him  than 
a  leech  letting  an  ounce  of 
blood. 

It  was  not  long  before  Gibbie 
of  the  Langbarns  undid  the  hasp 


Of  the  Hills.  yy 

of  his  door  and  stole  out.  He 
lived  alone  and  did  his  necessi- 
ties for  himself,  without  let  or 
help  from  womankind.  Gibbie 
held  his  musket  pointing  with 
the  wide  mouth  towards  the 
madman,  who  lay  motionless  by 
the  well,  all  fallen  together  in  a 
heap.  Gibbie's  mouth  was  open 
and  his  eyes  wide  with  terror  as 
he  came  near.  But  Uchtrcd  lay 
as  one  dead,  Gibbie  watched 
him  long,  but  at  the  last,  moved 
by  curiosity,  he  leaned  to  turn 
him  over.  One  of  the  madman's 
hands  rose  stiffly  like  the  sail  of 
a  windmill,  but  as  it  came  round 


78        Mad  Sir  Uchtred 

to  fall  it  caught  at  the  man's  gun. 
In  a  moment  the  madman  had 
sprung  to  his  feet  and  snatched 
the  musket  clear  of  the  man's 
horrified  hand.  Gibbie  turned 
to  flee,  but  swifter  than  he  was 
Sir  Uchtred,  who  had  that  morn- 
ing run  fleetfoot  like  a  deer  over 
the  Glints  of  Glashdaan. 

Yet  Gibbie  fled,  inarticulate 
noises  wheezing  in  his  parched 
throat  as  he  went.  But  round 
him  circled  Uchtred  of  Garth- 
land  as  a  gull  round  a  herring- 
boat,  holding  his  musket  in 
hand,  and  heading  him  off  from 
his    house    and    up    to   the    hill. 


Of  the  Hills.  79 

Each  time  the  pitiable  fugitive 
turned  like  a  hunted  hare  he 
found  the  madman  facing  him, 
and  the  black  eye  of  the  musket, 
which  he  himself  had  loaded, 
looking  into  his.  And  he  re- 
membered with  terror  that  he 
had  wadded  it  with  three  leaves 
of  the  Bible. 

At  last  Gibbie  could  go  no 
further.  The  rough  rider,  who 
had  ridden  so  hardly  over  the 
muir  folk,  came  himself  to 
know  what  it  was  to  be  hunted 
to  the  death.  He  sank  down 
on  his  knees  and  held  out  his 
hands  in  })itifiil   petition. 


8o         Mad  Sir  Ucbtred 

"Base  covenanting  dog!" 
cried  Uchtred  of  Garthland. 
"  Set  the  bandage  over  thine 
eyes,  for  thou  shalt  die ! " 

"  I  am  no  Covenanter,  noble 
Sir  Uchtred,  as  thou  well  know- 
est.  I  will  swear  it  with  great 
oaths,"  cried  Gibbie  the  wretched 
one. 

"  I  ken  the  Whigs  can  swear. 
Did  they  not  swear  the  Cove- 
nant, and  was  I  myself  not 
there  ?  It  is  the  praying  that 
I  can  tell  them  by.  So  e'en 
fall  to  the  praying,  sirrah,  for 
your  time  is  short  to  live." 

Poor  Gibbie  was  in  a  perilous 


Of  the  Hills.  8i 

case.  Even  his  enemies  had  been 
sorry  for  him.  Pray  he  could 
not,  yet  to  die  he  was  mightily 
unwilling;  and  also,  as  one  might 
avouch  without  uncharity,  ex- 
ceeding ill-prepared. 

He    lifted    up    his   hands    in 

appeal. 

"  O  Garthland,"  he  cried,  "  do 
ye  no  mind  Gibbie,  puir  Gibbie, 
that  used  to  sweer  siccan  ill 
words  at  the  dogs  that  ye  lickit 
him  wi'  his  ain  whap  for  blas- 
phemy? Ye  mind,  he  aye  rade 
in  your  front  file  an'  sang  braw 
sculduddery  ballants  till  ye. 
Gibbie    was    nae    Covenanter  — 


82        Mad  Sir  Uchtred 

na,^  God  forbid,  never  nane. 
He  never  prayed  ony.  The 
Lord  preserve  me!  Na,  nae 
siccan  ploys  for  Gibbie.  Let 
him  aff  this  time,  wise  Sir 
Uchtred,  and  he'll  never  again 
let  blaff  wi'  Broon  Bess  at  ye 
a'  the  days  o'  him." 

A  gleam  of  irony  so  grim 
that  it  could  not  be  named 
humour  shone  in  the  madman's 
eye. 

"Gibbie,"  he  said,  "strip,  an' 
ye  shall  get  a  bowshot's  law; 
then,  gin  I  grip  ye,  Gibbie, 
ye  can  say,  '  Guid  e'en '  to  this 
braw  world  that  has  used  you 
an'  me  sae  weel ! " 


Of  the  Hills.  83 

Sir  Uchtred  sat  nursing  the 
musket  on  his  knee,  while 
Gibbie  stripped  his  long  blue 
coat  from  off  him  and  stood 
ready  for  the  race. 

"  Noo,  Gibbie,  ye  see  yon 
scroG:g:ie  thorn  ? "  said  his  mas- 
ter,  quite  sanely.  "  I'll  gie  ye  to 
there.  Then  frae  that  to  your 
ain  door  cheek  your  heels  keep 
your  head,  for  gin  I  catch  ye, 
ye  are  no  better  than  a  dead 
mankin." 

"  I    ken    that,"    said     Gibbie, 
bracing  himself  bravely  for  the 
attempt. 
I  Flinging   his    bonnet    on    the 


84        Mad  Sir  Uchtred 

turf,  he  set  off  leisurely  at  a 
walking  pace  towards  the  little 
scrunted  thorn. 

"  Faster  !  "  cried  the  madman, 
half  rising  in  his  place  with  the 
musket  in  his  hand. 

"  Na,  na ;  I  ken  better  than 
the  breathe  mysel'  ower  sune 
for  the  race,"  returned  Gibbie. 
"  I  hae  the  safe  conduct  o'  the 
honour  o'  Sir  Uchtred  Dowall 
of  Garthland." 

"  You  shall  have  to  the  scrog- 
gie  thorn,"  he  said  ;  "  but  do  not 
try  the  honour  ower  sair." 

Slowly  Gibbie  made  his  way 
to  the  tree.     Within  three  yards 


Of  the  Hills.  85 

of  it  he  stopped  and  calmly 
disencumbered  himself  of  his 
knee-breeks. 

"  Bare  shanks  baith  o'  us  is 
fair  hornie,"  he  cried,  and  set 
off  running  at  the  top  of  his 
speed. 

But  when  the  madman  rose, 
something  in  Gibbie's  words, 
or  mayhap  something  in  the 
sight  which  he  presented  skim- 
mino:  over  the  moor  with  his 
bare  shanks  twinkling  under  his 
flying  upper  garment,  caused 
Sir  Uchtred  to  break  into  a 
great  fit  of  laughter,  which 
lasted  till  Gibbie  was  safely  bar- 


86        Mad  Sir  Ucbtred. 

ricaded  in  his  little  cothouse  of 
Langbarns,  with  all  his  domes- 
tic furniture  piled  at  the  back 
of  the  door,  and  his  porridge- 
pot  set  legs  outward  in  the 
narrow  window  and  buttressed 
within  with  a  great  weaver's 
beam. 

Sir  Uchtred  set  the  flintlock 
upon  the  ground,  and  with  his 
heel  stamped  the  musket  in  two, 
snapping  it  like  a  rotten  branch 
at  the  breech.  Then,  as  the 
crying  of  men  came  to  him 
upon  the  wind,  he  turned  and 
ran  like  wind  in  the  direction 
of  Clashdaan. 


CHAPTER   VII. 


WISE      HELEN,      BABE      ISBEL,      AND 
BOY    PIERCE. 

;T  the  place  of  Garth- 
land  in  the  first  days 
of  the  falling  of  the 
curse  there  was  confusion  and 
deray.  To  Philippa  Forrester, 
whom  Sir  Uchtrcd  had  made  a 
Dowall  of  Garthland,  it  seemed 
that  God  had  taken  away  her 
prop  and  place  in  life.  He  had 
brought  her  from  the  convent, 
and  made  her  a  sheltered  home 
87 


88         Mad  Sir  Uchtred 

on  the  leeside  of  life.  She  loved 
him  as  a  woman  loves  a  man 
who  has  been  her  all,  and  who 
to  her  shows  himself  other  and 
better  than  he  does  to  the  world. 

At  first  Philippa  could  do 
little  but  go  out  on  the  sandy 
braes  behind  the  New  Place  of 
Garthland  and  sit  in  a  dell 
among  the  rabbits  that  sported 
among  the  young  grass.  With 
her  there  went  one  day  her 
children,  Helen,  Isbel,  and  little 
Pierce. 

"  Mother,"  said  Helen,  who 
was  a  girl,  slender,  like  a  shoot- 
ing willow,  of  the  age  of  seven 


Of  the  Hills.  89 

years  —  "  mother,      why      does 
father  not  come  back  to  us  ? " 

"  He  will  surely  come,  child," 
said  the  Lady  of  Garthland. 

"  But  why  —  why  does  he  stay 
away  so  long?  He  does  not 
love  us,  or  he  would  come  home 
and  not  let  our  mother  weep," 
persisted  the  child. 

"  Helen,  you  do  not  under- 
stand," said  her  mother.  "  God 
has  kept  your  father  with  Him 
for  a  little,  but  He  will  surely 
send  him  back  to  Helen  and 
Isbel  and  to  little  Pierce,  who 
rides  on  horseback  like  a  man." 

"I  can  ride  better   than  Gib- 


90        Mad  Sir  Ucbtred 

bie  MacalHster,  mother !  "  said 
Pierce. 

"And  to  you,  mother?"  said 
Helen,  "for  you  need  him  more 
than  we,  though  you  are  grown 
up,  for  we  do  not  weep." 

"  Do  not  weep,  Httle  mother," 
said  Pierce.  "  I  will  take  care 
of  you,  for  I  am  a  man.  Helen 
and  Isbel  are  only  girls ;  but  I 
will  fight  for  you,  little  mother, 
for  I  am  Pierce  Dowall  of  Garth- 
land,  and  I  ride  like  a  trooper 
already  —  Uncle  Randolph  says 
so !  And  when  I  fall  off  I  do 
not  cry !  " 

"  What  does   Randolph  know 


Of  the  Hills.  91 

of  how  a  man  rides  ? "  flashed 
Philippa,  fiercely.  "  Why  does 
he  not  ride  forth  to  bring  Uch- 
tred  home  to  me  ?  " 

Then  Isbel,  who  was  the 
youngest  and  lisped  in  the  ac- 
cents of  a  babe,  took  up  the  par- 
al^le  against  her  mother,  for  the 
tender  and  innocent  mercies  of 
children  are  often  cruder  than 
those  of  the  wicked. 

"God  must  love  our  father  very 
much,"  said  little  Isbel  Dowall. 
And  she  patted  her  mother's 
liaiid  between  her  two  tliat  were 
soft  and  winsomely  dimpled. 

"  A'    course     He     loves     our 


92        Mad  Sir  Ucbtred 

father,"  said  Pierce,  indignantly. 
"  Our  father  is  Sir  Uchtred  of 
Garthland.  A'  course  God  loves 
him." 

Isbel  looked  at  her  mother. 
She  herself  did  not  mind  much 
what  Pierce  said.  He  was  always 
saying  something  not  very  wise. 
It  was  true  he  could  ride  a  horse. 
But,  after  all,  overly  much  might 
be  made  of  that,  thought  both 
Helen  and  Isbel. 

Helen  also  looked  at  her 
mother.  "  Tell  us,"  she  said, 
"does  God  love  our  father  very 
much  that  He  keeps  him  so 
long  from  us  }  " 


Of  the  Hills.  93 

Philippa  thought  of  the  picture 
which  Randolph  had  brought  to 
her  of  the  beast-man  who  couched 
and  ran  on  the  steep  side  of 
Clashdaan  —  the  man  who  for 
years  had  lain  by  her  side.  She 
trembled  as  though  a  wind  were 
blowing  upon  her,  coming  over 
the  downs  winged  from  the  bitter 
east.  But  she  must  answer  the 
children,  for  they  were  now  all 
w^aiting  and  looking  at  her. 

It  was  Pierce  who  helped  her 
out. 

"  Tell  them  a-course  God  loves 
father,  else  why  would  He  keep 
him  to  Himself  when   He  miidit 


94        Mad  Sir  Uchtred 

send  him  back  to  us?  Tell 
them  that  —  girls  think  of  noth- 
ing but  poppets  and  things  to 
wear." 

Deep  in  Philippa's  mind  there 
was  lying  a  word  which  she 
could  not  for  a  little  grasp.  She 
remembered  it  from  the  lessons 
in  old  convent  days.  Often  her 
mind  seemed  on  the  verge  of 
seizing  it,  and  she  knew  that  it 
would  bring  her  comfort  if  only 
she  could  capture  the  sense. 
Yet  the  words  eluded  her  time 
and  again. 

This  time  it  was  the  wise 
Helen  who  came  to  her  aid. 


Of  the  Hills.  95 

"  If  our  father  be  with  God, 
is  the  Lord  Christ  there  also  ? " 

Strano'C  words  these  for  the 
house  of  Garthland,  in  the  court- 
yard of  which  but  a  Httle  time 
ago  thirty  king's  horses  champed 
bit  and  clattered  hoof,  and  thirty 
king's  troopers  swore  the  oaths 
of  Flanders. 

Like  a  flash  of  the  Are  which 
shine th  from  the  east  unto  the 
west  the  words  of  the  text  she 
sought  ran  athwart  the  mind  of 
Philippa. 

"  His  life  is  hid  with  Christ  in 
God  !  "  she  said. 

The  children  stood  about  her 


96        Mad  Sir  Ucbtred 

with  their  hands  on  her  knee. 
They  did  not  understand,  but 
there  was  comfort  in  the  pleas- 
ure which  beamed  in  their 
mother's  eyes. 

"  Say  that  again,  mother," 
said  wise  Helen,  for  the  delight 
of  seeing  the  light  on  her 
mother's  face  as  she  said  it. 

"  And  you  are  sure  he  will 
come  back  ?  "  lisped  Babe  Isbel. 

"/  told  you  before  that  he 
would  come,"  declared  Pierce ; 
"  and  I  shall  ride  to  the  hunting: 
with  him  and  have  a  horse  of  my 
own,  and  a  gun  and  a  sword  and 
steel  cap,  and  fight  for  the  king." 


Of  the  Hills.  97 

"  Pierce  is  a  boy,  and  only 
thinks  of  riding,"  said   Helen. 

"  We  think  of  you,  mother," 
said  Babe  Isbel,  looking  reproach- 
fully at  Pierce. 

"  And  I  think  of  mother  as 
much  as  you  —  you  — girls  !  " 

Pierce  searched  for  a  word  of 
contumely  which  he  could  use  in 
his  mother's  presence,  but,  not 
finding  one,  he  put  all  his  scorn 
into  the  last  word,  which  indeed 
contained  a  fact  which  neither 
Helen  nor  Isbel  could  gainsay. 

But  wise  Plelen  took  the 
breeze  out  of  his  sails  with  case 
and  directness. 

n 


98         Mad  Sir  Uchired 

"  Mother  was  a  girl  not  so 
long  ago,"  she  said. 

"And  father,  he  says  that 
she  is  one  still,"  said  Babe  Isbel, 
softly. 

And  they  both  nodded  their 
heads  triumphantly  at  him. 

Pierce  was  at  the  end  of  his 
tether  in  argument.  But  he  had 
the  weapon  of  a  boy  in  reserve. 
He  withdrew  a  step  behind  his 
mother,  and  put  out  his  tongue 
at  his  sisters. 

"  Mmm7it ,"     he     cried; 

"that's  what  I  think  of  you." 

"  Pierce  !  "  cried  his  mother, 
waking  from  a  reverie  at  the 
sound. 


Of  the  Hills.  99 

But  Pierce  was  already  disap- 
pearing over  the  hill  in  the  direc- 
tion of  the  stables  of  Garthland. 

Philippa  sighed.  Something 
in  her  heart  spoke  to  her.  She 
clung  to  the  thought  of  her 
husband  as  she  had  first  known 
him,  ere  the  evil  ambition  came 
upon  him. 

"  He  will  grow  up  into  a  man 
like  his  father,"  she  said.  "  I 
wish  he  were  a  man  now." 

For  the  thought  came  upon 
her  that  she  was  a  widow,  and 
yet  not  a  widow  —  defenceless 
and  forsaken,  yet  within  a  day's 
journey  of  her  true  husband. 


loo       Mad  Sir  Uc hired. 

And,  even  as  she  spoke,  on 
the  side  of  Clashdaan  Mad  Sir 
Uchtred  laughed  and  cried 
aloud. 

"  Philippa !  "  he  said. 

But  she  did  not  hear. 


;^\}^@.„0£^^ 


CHAPTER   VIII. 

THE    FACE    AT   THE    WINDOW. 

NWISE  and  evil  as 
had  been  Randolph 
Dowalls  wooing  of 
his  brothers  wife  during  the 
time  that  Uchtred  was  in  hold 
with  them,  and  sat  glooming 
daily  in  his  study  over  the  gate, 
with  his  book  in  his  hand  and 
his  eye  upon  the  terrace  —  of  a 
full  certainty  no  fault  could  be 
found  with  his  seemly  behaviour 
when  his  brother  had  fled  from 


lOI 


I02       Mad  Sir  Uchtred 

them  to  dwell  with  the  beasts  of 
the  field. 

He  did  not  even  approach  his 
sister,  his  brother's  wife,  save  by 
asking  her  permission  through 
the  mouth  of  a  messenger.  He 
compassed  her  with  delicatest 
observance,  and  his  most  familiar 
discourse  was  seasoned  with  the 
salt  of  deference  and  grace.  His 
habit,  too,  was  more  sober,  and 
there  was  now  no  need  to  call 
him  "  waterfly." 

But  outside  he  daily  strove 
to  take  his  brother's  place  in 
authority  and  upon  the  estates, 
yet  without   unduly  seeming   to 


Of  the  Hills.  103 

put  himself  forward,  till  all  mar- 
velled how  the  stroke  that  had 
fallen  on  the  house  had  changed 
light-wit  Randolph  Dowall  of 
Garthland. 

To  Philippa  he  appeared  in 
the  guise  of  unobtrusive  and 
reliable  friend.  He  was  invisi- 
ble when  he  was  not  needed, 
and  yet  in  an  emergency  she 
had  only  to  send  a  messenger, 
and  Randoljih  was  waiting  in 
the  hall  to  do  her  a  service. 

There  is  no  doubt  that  Ran- 
dolph believed  that  he  had  found 
the  surer  way  into  his  brother's 
regality.     And  there   is  a  possi- 


I04       Mad  Sir  Uchtred 

bility  that  he  was  right.  At 
least  it  is  certain  that  Philippa 
grew  gradually  to  trust  him  and 
depend  upon  him,  having  none 
other.  So  that  "  Let  us  send 
for  Randolph  "  became  a  house- 
hold word. 

"  Dear  Uncle  Randolph,"  said 
Helen  and  Isbel. 

"  Boys  do  not  say  '  dear '  all 
day  long  —  only  to  their  mothers 
when  no  one  is  by  —  but  Uncle 
Randolph  is  a  very  proper  man  !  " 

For  this  was  boy  Pierce's 
strongest  affirmation  of  excel- 
lence. He  had  been  wont  to 
use  it  of  his  father. 


Of  the  Hills.  105 

So  who  shall  say  that  Ran- 
dolph was  not  become  a  wise 
and  prudent  man  ? 

So  the  m.onths  slipped  and 
the  years  came,  and  the  Thing 
that  was  a  beast  and  no  man 
still  skipped  about  Clashdaan 
and  cauiT^ht  the  white  mountain- 
hare,  living  the  while  under  a 
stone.  And  the  dew  of  the 
night  was  tliick  and  chill  upon 
it.  Yet,  after  all,  tliis,  and  not 
Randolph,  was  the  husband  of 
Pliilippa,  Lady  of  Garthland,  and 
the  father  of  little  Pierce,  who 
rode  like  a  man. 

On   a   night  in   November,  in 


io6       Mad  Sir  Ucbtred 

the  third  year  of  the  madness 
of  Sir  Uchtred,  Randolph,  who 
had  so  often  been  called  to  serve 
the  Lady  of  Garthland,  sent  a 
humble  messatre  that  he  would 
be  greatly  honoured  if  the  Lady 
Philippa  would  deign  to  receive 
him  for  a  moment  in  the  hall. 

There  was  a  certain  pleasure 
in  Philippa's  heart  as  she  went 
down,  for  Randolph  had  been 
her  friend,  sole  and  faithful, 
through  these  years  of  trial  and 
adversity,  and  had  stood  by  her 
and  her  children  with  unfailing 
and  unselfish  loyalty.  The  fool- 
ish past  was  buried  and  atoned 


Of  the  Hills.  107 

for.     He  had    been    but   a  boy, 
and  so  she  had  treated  him. 

In  the  great  hall  Randolph 
waited  her.  She  came  down 
holding  her  gown  in  one  hand 
and  a  great  belt  clasping  her 
waist,  which,  like  Helen's,  was 
slender,  and  swayed  a  little  as 
a  willow  does  in  the  wind.  She 
was  tall,  yet  one  understood  at 
a  glance  why  her  children  called 
her  ever  "  the  little  mother." 
She  wore  a  dress  of  dark  silk, 
very  soft  and  rich,  but  wholly 
without  ornament,  and  u})on  it 
only  the  jewelled  belt  lay  like  a 
zone  of  golden  sheen. 


io8       Mad  Sir  Uchtred 

Randolph  held  his  feathered 
hat  in  his  hand  so  that  the  plume 
swept  the  floor.  Upon  them  both 
a  great  fire,  already  well  burnt, 
threw  red  and  dancing  lights. 
Three  or  four  candles  set  high 
in  iron  sconces  hardly  added  to 
or  changed  the  illumination. 

The  Lady  of  Garthland  put  out 
her  hand.  Over  it  Randolph 
bowed  low.  "  Philippa,"  he  said, 
"  it  was  in  my  mind  to  speak 
with  you  —  to  ask  your  advice, 
and  so  I  ventured  to  send  a  mes- 
senger.    Am  I  forgiven  }  " 

He  spoke  with  a  gentle  accent, 
like  one  that  fears  a  rebuff. 


Of  the  Hills.  109 

Philippa  smiled  and  said,  "  Are 
my  owings  to  you  so  few  that  I 
should  be  offended  when  my  true 
brother  sends  to  speak  with  me  ?  " 

It  seemed  as  if  at  the  word 
"  brother "  Randolph  of  Garth- 
land  winced  a  little,  as  though  a 
thorn  had  galled  him  suddenly. 

"  My  lady,"  he  said,  looking 
away  from  her  to  the  firelight 
and  speaking  slow  and  thought- 
fully, "  I  have  been  of  late  think- 
ing many  thoughts,  and  it  seems 
that  it  were  best  for  me  to  go 
away  —  to  take  service  in  foreign 
parts " 

"  Best  to  go  away,"  stammered 


no       Mad  Sir  Uchtred 

Philippa,  seeing  herself  left  with- 
out a  friend  and  the  care  of  the 
great  place  of  Garthland  upon  her 
unaccustomed  shoulders.  "  Best 
to  go  away  —  best  to  leave  Garth- 
land  and  the  children " 

"  And  you,''  said  Randolph, 
very  softly,  bending  towards  her 
in  the  fireliG:ht. 

Philippa  recovered  herself  from 
her  surprise. 

"  Why  do  you  say  so  ?  "  she 
asked,  looking  straight  at  him  as 
he  stood,  a  waterfly  no  longer, 
but  a  comely  bearded  man  at  the 
opposite  side  of  the  great  hall 
fireplace. 


Of  the  Hills.  1 1 1 

Randolph  was  a  man  experi- 
enced in  such  heart  matters,  and 
he  had  thought  this  thing  fully 
out.  He  knew  when  to  be  bold 
and  when  to  walk  circumspectly. 
He  knew  that  the  time  for  bold- 
ness was  come. 

"  Philippa,"  he  said,  speaking- 
out,  "  there  is  one  reason  why  I 
should  not  stay,  and  that  is  my 
love  of  you,  and  one  reason  why 
I  should  not  go  —  my  love  for 
the  children  —  Helen  and  Isbel 
and  little  Pierce." 

Now  Philij)pa  had  no  love  for 
this  man,  but  he  had  been  a  true 
and  loyal  friend,  and  to  lose  him 


112       Mad  Sir  Uchtred 

so  suddenly  was  hardly  to  be 
borne.  She  was  willing  enough 
that  he  should  devote  himself  to 
her  service ;  she  had  grown  to 
look  upon  it  as  a  right ;  and  be- 
sides, it  was  only  just  that  every 
one  should  devote  himself  to 
the  service  of  the  children.  A 
thought  struck  her. 

"  Ah,  do  not  go  —  for  the  sake 
of  the  children,"  she  said,  "for 
little  Pierce  that  is  growing  be- 
yond my  control  —  do  not  go  !  " 

Randolph  sprang  forward  in- 
stantly. He  took  her  by  the 
hand. 

"  Philippa,"  he  said,  earnestly, 


Of  the  Hills.  1 1 3 

and  his  voice  was  clear,  "  I  can- 
not stay  only  because  the  chil- 
dren love  me.  But,  if  you  will 
love  me,  I  shall  stay." 

He  mistook  her  startled  si- 
lence for  consent,  and  his  arm 
encircled  the  great  golden 
belt. 

"  Tell  mc,"  he  said,  still  more 
earnestly,  "where  in  all  the  world 
is  the  reason  why  I  should  not 
stay }  " 

There  was  a  moment's  fateful 
silence  between  them,  and  Phil- 
ippa  swayed  like  a  lily. 

"  HERE!  "  cried  suddenly  a 
terrible  voice  behind  them. 


114       Mad  Sir  Uchtred 

With  one  startled  instinct 
they  turned,  and  lo  !  at  the 
barred  window  there  appeared, 
ghastly  white  even  in  the  red 
firelight,  the  face  of  the  mad- 
man, Uchtred  of  the  Hills,  the 
man-beast  of  Clashdaan. 

"  Wife  and  brother,"  he  cried, 
shaking  the  bars,  "/  am  the 
reason  !  " 

Without  a  word  Randolph 
Dowall  snatched  a  pistol  from 
his  belt  and  fired  at  the  window, 
shatterinGf  the  wooden  frame. 
But  the  fierce  and  terrible  coun- 
tenance was  gone,  and  only  the 
echoes  of  the  noise  reverberated 


Of  the  Hills.  115 

through  the  halls  and  passages 
of  Garthland. 

The  Lady  Philippa  walked 
calmly  in  the  direction  of  the 
outer  hall  door.  Randolph,  with 
the  smoking  pistol  still  in  his 
hand,  caught  her  by  the  arm. 

"  Do  not  go,  for  your  very 
life,"  he  hissed.  "  His  anger  is 
that  of  a  fiend.  He  will  tear 
you  to  pieces." 

"  Take  away  your  liand,"  she 
said,  scornfully.  "  You  have 
done  me  enouLch  wronLj.  He  is 
my  husband." 

And  she  opened  the  door  wide 
and    went    out    on    the    terrace, 


ii6       Mad  Sir  Ucbtred 

while  Randolph  ran  up  into  the 
great  tower  and  barred  the  door. 

"  Uchtred  !  Uchtred  !  my 
husband  ! "  she  cried  aloud. 

But  only  the  night  wind  of 
late  November  wailed  in  her  ear, 
and  mysterious  voices  from  the 
vacfue  moorlands  across  which  it 
had  come  made  her  heart  beat 
with  strange  terror. 

She  went  to  the  window  where 
the  face  had  been  seen.  Part  of 
the  framework  hune:  outward, 
and  she  could  see  the  fresh  white 
splinter  of  the  v/ood. 

"  Uchtred,  my  husband,  come 
to  me,"  she  cried  again. 


Of  the  Hills.  1 1 7 

Yet  was  there  no  sound  save 
the  soughing  wind  all  about 
the  lonely  house  of  Garthland. 
Philippa  Dowall,  stricken  with 
sudden  terror  at  the  silence  — 
she  who  in  that  access  of  sudden 
alarm  had  not  feared  the  face  of 
her  husband,  turned  her  and  fled 
up  the  turret  stair  to  the  room 
whence  she  had  watched  Uchtred 
ride  away  that  Sabbath  morn. 
There  she  threw  herself  down 
between  the  children's  cots.  The 
chamber  was  filled  with  their 
sweet  and  equal  breathings.  She 
laid  her  head  on  the  trundle  bed 
of   little    Pierce.     He   moved  in 


ii8       Mad  Sir  Ucblred. 

his  sleep;  he  half  opened  his 
eyes,  said,  "  Dear  little  mother !  " 
and  so  fell  to  his  sleep  again. 

Then  the  Lady  Philippa prayed, 
with  her  head  on  Pierce's  pillow, 
as  she  had  never  prayed  in  the 
convent  with  the  good  sisters. 


CHAPTER    IX. 

THE    BEAST-MAN. 

>0  that  is  the  reason  that 
Uchtred,  the  Beast- 
Man,  sat  on  Clashdaan 
and  lauG:hed.  He  smote  his 
thigh  and  laughed,  throwing  back 
his  head  till  his  great  beard  wag- 
gled against  his  bare  breast.  He 
sat  with  his  feet  bent  down,  and 
the  nails  set  into  the  cjround  to 
give  him  foot-hold,  even  as  a 
bird  turns  its  claws  inward  as  it 
sits  on  a  branch.     He  was  naked 

H9 


I20       Mad  Sir  Uchtred 

save  where  about  the  middle  he 
had  girt  him  with  the  fell  of  a 
deer;  but  his  matted  hair  and 
beard  clothed  much  of  his  body. 
His  legs  and  arms  were  seamed 
and  scarred  —  shrunk  to  sinew 
and  shank-bone.  The  frost  had 
opened  cracks  in  them.  The 
dews  of  night  clogged  his  hair. 
The  red  earth  of  his  den  on  the 
Wolf's  Slock  was  caked  hard 
upon  him.  For  his  food  he  chased 
the  swift-foot  mountain-hare  and 
caught  it.  He  ate  his  prey  quick 
and  quivering,  and  lay  down  on 
the  rock  to  sleep,  like  the  beast 
that  he  was — he  that  had  been 


Of  the  Hills.  1 2 1 

Sir  Uchtred  of  Garthland  and 
lived  daintily,  loving  dalliance 
upon  the  cushions  of  Whitehall. 
Three  years  had  Mad  Sir 
Uchtred  been  on  the  moun- 
tains, and  no  man  could  take 
him.  For  when  his  tenantry 
came  to  seek  him  he  ran  alomx 
the  edges  of  the  precipices;  and, 
thrusting  forward  his  shaggy 
head,  he  mopped  and  mowed  at 
them  like  an  ape.  And  ever 
at  his  foot  as  he  skipped  along 
the  perilous  screes  ran  a  grey 
beast  which  the  common  j)eople 
reputed  to  be  his  famihar  spirit. 
Yet   it   was   but    a    wild    cat    he 


122       Mad  Sir  Uchtred 

had  found  at  a  rock's  foot  with 
a  broken  limb,  and  thought  to 
kill  for  the  lust  of  killing  that 
was  in  him;  yet  because  it 
wailed  like  a  child,  and  because 
he  was  lonely,  he  let  it  live. 
So  now  it  followed  him  like  a 
dog,  going  but  on  three  legs, 
trailing  one  useless  at  its  side. 
It  was,  indeed,  small  wonder 
that  Uchtred  laughed.  They 
had  chased  him  two  days,  and 
they  would  chase  him  three ; 
for  his  brother  Randolph  Dowall 
reigned  in  his  stead  at  Garth- 
land,  and  he  wished  to  have  as- 
surance in   his  possessions.     So 


Of  the  Hills.  123 

Randolph  sent  to  the  hill  to 
take  his  brother,  and  to-morrow 
he  himself  was  to  hunt  Clash- 
daan  for  Wild  Uchtred  with  the 
fell  bloodhounds  that  hold  the 
trail.  Uchtred  opened  his  arms 
and  beat  upon  his  breast  with 
mirth.  He  drummed  upon  the 
rock  on  which  he  sat,  kicking 
it  with  his  heels  for  wantonness 
as  a  child  does  when  the  master 
goes  forth  from  the  schoolroom. 
The  wild  cat  with  the  wounded 
leg  leapt  from  its  three  feet 
into  his  lap  and  nestled  there. 
Uchtred  of  Garthland  caressed 
it. 


124       ^^'^d  Sir  Uchtred 

"  They  chase  us,  Belus,"  he 
yammered.  "  I  am  Nebuchad- 
nezzar, King  of  Babylon,  whom 
the  Jew  God  hath  cursed  — 
sweet  Belus,  my  god."  He 
looked  down  and  spoke  to  the 
wild  beast  in  his  lap.  It 
watched  him  with  yellow  bale- 
ful eyes. 

"  For  thou  art  my  god,"  he 
wTnt  on.  "The  Jew  God  would 
have  me  worship  Him,  but  I 
have  profaned  His  temples  and 
He  has  cast  me  out  —  to  eat 
grass  like  an  ox.  So  He  said ; 
but  thou  and  I  know  what  is 
better   than    grass,    and    that    is 


Of  the  Hills.  125 

blood  —  blood,  the  fresh  sweet 
blood." 

And  the  hideous  thing  in  his 
lap  reached  upward,  fawning 
on  him  and  rubbino^  its  head 
against  his  face  and  mouth. 

"  Sweet  Belus,  my  god,"  he 
said,  "  they  will  chase  us  with 
dogs  to-morrow,  you  and  me  — 
great  dogs.  It  will  be  rare 
sport.  Dost  thou  mind  what 
we  did  with  the  last  dogs  that 
came }  How  I  held  them  and 
choked  them  whilst  thou  hadst 
thy  will  of  their  ]:)ain,  for  they 
are  thy  enemies  also,  Belus,  my 
god !       To-morrow     thou     shalt 


126       Mad  Sir  Uchtred 

hold  them  that  howl  at  thee  — 
the  men  that  hound  them  on, 
for  they  are  my  enemies,  and 
I,  Nebuchadnezzar,  King  of 
Babylon,  shall  have  my  will  of 
them." 

The  indigo  blue  night,  wink- 
ing with  stars,  bent  over  Clash- 
daan.  Uchtred,  the  Beast-Man, 
went  back  to  his  lair  in  the 
Hass  of  the.  Wolf's  Slock,  danc- 
ing along  the  fretted  pinnacles 
of  the  Gcranite  as  a  withered  leaf 
dances  in  the  veering  flaw  of 
November.  His  familiar  fol- 
lowed after,  trailing  a  limb.  To 
see   them    against    the   sky  was 


Of  the  Hills.  127 

to  believe  in  devils ;  and  that 
is  sound  and  wholesome  doc- 
trine. 

The  cave  on  Clashdaan  was 
but  a  fox-earth  between  two 
stones ;  but  it  was  overgrown 
with  matted  heather,  and  being 
set  on  a  promontory  it  was  a 
watch-tower  looking  three  ways 
over  the  blue  cauldron  of  the 
Dungeon  of  Buchan. 

Far  away  in  the  depths  of 
it,  where  the  winds  that  were 
silent  above  at  Clashdaan  were 
sighing,  a  fire  was  leaping  and 
sinking.  At  the  door  of  his 
earth  Uchtred  turned  and  pointed 


128       Mad  Sir  Ucbtred 

it  out  to  the  beast  crouching  at 
his  feet. 

"  See,  Bckis,  my  god,"  he 
said ;  "  that  is  the  watch-fire 
of  them  that  hunt  us.  If  thou 
wilt,  Belus,  we  shall  visit  it 
to-morrow,  for  to-morrow  is  the 
dark  of  the  moon.  And  we 
shall  hunt  the  hunters ;  and  then, 
too,  the  hounds  shall  not  cry, 
scenting  us  afar  as  they  would 
do  if  we  went  to-night,  for  to- 
morrow they  shall  all  be  dead." 

So  the  Wild  Man  crept  into 
his  den,  and  the  beast  after 
him.  The  man  turned  him 
about  in  the  smother  of  bracken 


Of  the  Hills.  129 

and  heather  as  a  dog  does  when 
it  couches.  The  lame  wild  cat 
leapt  in  between  his  arms  and 
his  breast  and  curled  there. 
And  sleep  —  which  is  God's 
equal  mystery,  like  the  air  and 
the  sunshine,  for  wild  and  tame, 
just  and  unjust  —  fell  upon  them 
twain. 

The  great  wild  cat  that  slept 
in  Mad  Uchtrcd's  bosom  opened 
an  eye  when  the  front  of  the 
morning  showed  over  the  Range 
of  Kells.  It  was  a  glorious 
promise  of  sunrise,  but  the  wild 
beast  in  the  madman's  arms 
heeded    it    not.     What    the   eye 


K 


I30      Mad  Sir  Uchired 

of  the  wild  cat  lighted  upon 
was  a  spark  of  red  in  the  stones 
—  a  spark  that  flitted  and  ever 
flitted,  yet  drew  always  nearer.  It 
was  a  weasel  among  the  stones, 
gazing  fascinated  at  the  naked 
and  hairy  throat  of  the  wild 
man,  who  lay  with  his  head 
thrown  back  among  the  leaves. 
The  beasts  saw  one  another ; 
but  the  will  of  the  weasel  was 
to  the  man,  and  to  the  blood 
that  leapt  under  the  skin  of 
his  neck.  It  wormed  its  way 
among  the  stones,  rearing  a 
yellow,  snaky  head,  with  glit- 
tering eyes  of  ruby  red,  watch- 


Of  the  Hills.  131 

ing  where  in  the  sleeping  man 
the  live  pulse  beat. 

The  wild  cat  made  no  sign 
nor  prepared  to  spring  till  the 
weasel  had  almost  set  its  nose 
against  the  neck  of  Uchtred  of 
Garthland.  Then  the  cat  sprang, 
gripping  the  slim,  snaky  back 
in  the  middle.  The  weasel  bent 
like  a  whip  to  bite ;  but  the 
wild  cat  snapped  it  like  a  rotten 
stick,  and,  letting  it  fall  writh- 
ing, looked  about  quickly  lest 
the  sleeping  man  should  have 
wakened. 

The  cat  cast  no  further  glance 
at   the   weasel,    beating   its    life 


132       Mad  Sir  Uchtred 

out  like  a  trodden  worm  on  the 
heather,  but  couched  open-lidded 
at  the  head  of  Mad  Uchtred  of 
Garthland,  watching  with  yellow- 
irised  eyes  the  dreams  chase 
themselves  across  the  clouded 
brain  of  that  man  whom  God 
has  driven  out  to  eat  with  the 
beast  of  the  field. 

Uchtred  of  Garthland  sat  up 
when  the  first  beam  of  the  sun 
touched  him,  straight  as  a  lance 
laid  in  rest,  over  the  saddle  of 
Clashdaan.  He  put  his  hands, 
which  were  wet  with  dew,  to  his 
lips,  and  licked  the  moisture. 
Then    he    held    out    his    arms. 


Of  the  Hills.  133 

"  Sweet  Belus,  my  god ! "  he 
said. 

And  as  the  wild  beast,  traihng 
a  hmb,  sprang  into  his  arms,  the 
weasel  twisted  in  pain  and  bit  in 
agony  at  its  own  body.  Uchtred 
set  his  foot  upon  it,  because  he 
hated  its  kind.  With  a  great  glad- 
ness to  bite  once  before  death 
came,  the  small  evil  beast  met  its 
curved  teeth  in  the  man's  ankle. 
He  jerked  his  foot  and  sped  it 
over  the  cliff  to  feed  the  ravens 
on  the  Clints  of  Clashdaan. 

For  evil  sometimes  slays  evil, 
and  Satan's  kingdom  is  divided 
airainst  itself. 


CHAPTER   X. 


THE  WIFE  S  QUEST  ON   CLASHDAAN. 


^QT  was  very  silent  on 
Clashdaan.  Only  the 
winds,  the  wild  birds, 
and  the  thunder  are  ever  noisy 
there.  The  silence  of  noonday 
is  almost  as  solemn  and  awful 
as  that  of  midnight.  The  Lady 
Philippa  was  on  Clashdaan.  She 
who  had  come  from  the  convent 
garden  to  the  wide  spaces  and 
flat  horizons,  the  fleecy  cloud 
banks  and  vast  arched  sky  of 
134 


Mad  Sir  Uchtred.      135 

Garthland  and  its  pasture  lands, 
wandered  afoot  over  the  moun- 
tains of  the  Dungeon  of  Buchan. 
To  the  foot  of  the  hill  country- 
she  had  come  ridino:  with  three 
of  a  company.  Then,  because 
there  was  none  to  say  her  nay, 
she  had  bidden  them  wait  for 
her,  and  started  alone  into  the 
heart  of  the  hills  to  find  her 
husband.  They  might  have  re- 
strained her  from  the  mad  ad- 
venture. It  was  not  quite  the 
time  when  servingmen  said  nay 
to  the  commands  of  so  <j:reat  a 
lady  as  the  misti'css  of  tlie  New 
Place     of     Ciarthland,    and     the 


1^,6       Mad  Sir  Uchired 


wife  of  Uchtred  Dowall^  its 
lord. 

Till  the  late  evening  she  was 
wandering  among  the  flinty 
boulder-strewn  desolations  of 
the  Dungeon.  At  first  she 
had  gone  to  every  hill-top  and 
cried  "Uchtred!"  But  of  this 
speedily  she  waxed  weary,  for 
only  the  eagles  swooped  nearer, 
jealous  of  her  intrusion  on  their 
ancient  quiet.  Or  from  behind 
a  stone  a  hoarse-voiced  moun- 
tain-sheep blared  like  a  trumpet. 

It  was  very  silent  on  Clash- 
daan. 

Yet    Philippa   wished   herself 


Of  the  Hills.  137 

not  elsewhere.  She  had  come 
to  meet  her  husband.  Mad  or 
in  his  right  mind,  she  feared 
him  not.  She  wanted  to  tell 
him  that  she  had  been  true  — 
the  night  before,  when  he  looked 
upon  her  in  the  great  hall  of 
Garthland,  and  true  every  night 
and  day  since  he  left  her  bed 
for  the  side  of  the  rugged  mount 
and  the  caves  of  Clashdaan. 

Save  that  she  feared  for  the 
boy  in  that  wild  country,  she 
had  brought  Pierce  in  her  hand. 
She  had  adventured  forth  to 
seek  him  whf)  would  not  re- 
turn  to  her.      Often  in  llic  nii/ht 

^7 


138       Mad  Sir  Ucbtred 

season  she  heard  a  voice  which 
told  her  that  the  curse  of  God 
was  now  near  the  lifting,  and 
that  once  more  Uchtred  would 
be  her  man  and  lie  by  her  side. 
The  evening  sun  slanted 
athwart  the  great  valley  of  the 
five  lochs,  and  the  sharp  peaks 
trailed  long  shadows,  shooting 
them  out  like  spears  over  the 
Dungeon.  Philippa  the  deli- 
cately-bred thought  neither  of 
rest  nor  refreshment,  seeking 
her  husband  till  she  should  find 
him.  But  the  hills  were  bare, 
the  clouds  washed  down  by  the 
rain,  and  the  distance  seemed  so 


Of  the  Hills.  1 39 

near  that  one  might  touch  it 
with  the  hand  —  so  lucid  was 
the  air. 

And  throudi  the  silences  and 
the  gathering  glooms  of  Clash- 
daan,  Philippa  continued  to  look 
for  Sir  Uchtred  her  husband, 
to  tell  him  what  he  had  never 
doubted  till  yestreen  —  that  she 
was  true  wife  as  when  first  he 
took  her  from  the  nuns. 

"He  sees  me  —  he  must  see 
me,"  she  said  to  herself,  weep- 
ing, "but  he  thinks  me  a  thing 
unworthy  to  be  spoken  to." 

Yet  she  had  no  fear,  for  her 
innoccncy    and    the    thought    of 


I40       Mad  Sir  Uchtred 

the  first  days  when  she  was 
brou2:ht  forth  from  the  convent 
to  marry  Uchtred  of  Garthland 
—  and  when  against  all  report 
she  found  him  kind  to  her  — 
sustained  her.  She  only  desired 
that  these  days  should  come 
again,  and  the  voice  of  an  angel, 
or  a  child,  in  her  heart  told  her 
that  they  would  surely  come. 
Besides,  though  he  should  slay 
her,  yet  she  would  love  him  with 
the  love  that  is  without  reproach 
and  therefore  is  without  fear. 

Nevertheless  it  was  very  silent 
on  Clashdaan,  and  she  feared  the 
silence  and  the  coming  darkness. 


Of  the  Hills,  141 

For  the  night  came  on  gradually 
that  she  could  not  see  it  darken. 
The  hills  that  shut  her  in  on  the 
north  glowed  darkest  amethyst, 
and  the  lakelets  and  tarns  shone 
uncertainly  in  the  hollows.  But 
on  all  the  hills  there  was  not  a 
sound  save  of  a  stone  that  clat- 
tered down  a  stone  slide. 

The  stillness  oppressed  her. 

It  grew  darker,  till  Philippa 
could  see  no  more  than  the  out- 
lines of  the  hills  dark  against  the 
skies.  Through  the  oppression 
of  the  silence  and  the  thick  dark- 
ness there  came  to  her  ear  a 
strange    wailing   cry.      Fear   sat 


142      Mad  Sir  Ucbfred 

quivering  and  palpable  upon  her 
heart.  She  cried  aloud  for  her 
husband.  It  seemed  that  she 
heard  viewless  and  hushed  foot- 
steps on  the  heather,  as  of  one 
who  walked  in  velvet,  and  now 
she  looked  fearfully  for  evil  to 
come,  now  from  one  side  and 
now  from  another.  But  ever 
when  her  terror  was  greatest, 
and  when,  straining  her  eyes 
through  the  darkness,  she  im- 
agined that  she  saw  fiery  eyes 
glaring  at  her  through  the 
gloom,  there  came  the  strange 
throat  call  out  of  the  darkness. 
Then    the    terror    left   her,   and 


Of  the  Hills.  i43 

she  sank  down  upon  the 
heather. 

In  the  access  of  her  danger, 
when  the  terror  that  walketh  in 
darkness  —  that  hateful,  unknown 
thing  —  prowled  the  nearest  and 
seemed  most  like  a  fiend  about 
to  pounce  upon  her  from  behind, 
she  cried  out  to  her  husband, 
"O  Uchtred,  my  man  —  come  to 
me  and  save  me  !  " 

And  then,  as  soon  as  she  had 
said  that,  the  creeping  horror 
utterly  vanished  away.  When 
again  her  fear  came  she  was  able 
to  mock  it;  and,  without  even 
a    beating    womanly    heart,    she 


144       Mz^  Sir  Uchtred 

drew  her  shawl  about  her  head 
and  neck,  where  the  fear  had 
seemed  to  take  her  most,  and 
lay  down  to  sleep  on  the  heather, 
so  utterly  aweary  was  she,  being 
but  a  woman  and  alone. 

The  sun  was  rising  behind 
the  Ransre  of  Kells  when  she 
awoke.  It  was  good  to  see  him 
breast  the  Millyea  and  pour  his 
beams,  like  a  bursting  Lam- 
mas flood,  into  the  wide  spaces 
of  the  Dungeon  of  Buchan. 
Sweeter  still  to  see  his  first 
beam  shine  upon  the  fair  head 
of  Philippa  Dowall,  who  lay 
breathing  equably  on   the  bent. 


Of  the  Hills.  145 

like   a   morrow's    bride    in    her 
beauty  sleep. 

From  her  neck  the  plaid  had 
fallen  away,  and  on  the  white 
of  her  skin  where  it  is  tenderest 
was  impressed  a  deep  red  mark 
as  of  the  claws  of  a  beast. 
There  was  no  spot  or  stain  on 
her  fair  body  other  than  this. 
And  even  this  she  knew  not  of 
when  she  awoke. 

Philippa  of  Garthland  sat  up 
and  looked  about  her.  The 
Dungeon  lay  beneath,  swept 
clean  of  living  thing,  and  the 
blue  sky  shut  lier  in  above. 
She    had    been    in     the     Lord's 


146       Mad  Sir  Uc hired 

prison  house,  and  He  had  cast 
the  lap  of  His  cloak  about  her. 
But  near  her,  even  at  her  feet, 
she  saw  a  strange  thing.  She 
started  up  and  knelt  upon  her 
knees  beside  it.  There,  on  a 
rock,  very  plain  to  be  seen  in 
the  young  morning  sun,  lay 
a  young  white  mountain-hare. 
Fair  and  spotless  was  its  coat, 
save  where  at  the  neck  a  drop 
of  blood  distilled  from  the  triple 
indentation  of  the  claw  of  a 
beast  of  prey.  It  was  the  same 
mark  of  triple  claw  that  was  on 
the  neck  of  Philippa  of  Garth- 
land.     Beside  the  dead  hare  was 


Of  tbe  Hills.  147 

a  curved  and  hollow  stone  full 
of  the  clearest  water.  Many 
berries  also  of  the  moorland 
and  the  wood  lay  alongside  in 
a  heap.  But  upon  the  top  of 
the  rock  there  was  somcthinc: 
that  glinted  and  sparkled  and 
took  Philippa's  breath  more 
than  all  the  other  stuff.  She 
snatched  it  with  a  trcmblino: 
and  eager  hand.  It  was  her  hus- 
band's siG^net  rinG:,  and  throucrh 
it  was  drawn  with  great  exact- 
ness and  care  a  few  heads  of 
white  heather,  very  lovely  and 
pleasant  to  her  heart  to  behold. 
Phi1ii)pa   of     Garlliland     knelt 


148       Mad  Sir  Ucbtred 

on  the  brindled  heath  and  gave 
thanks  —  for  the  preservation  of 
the  night  in  that  wild  place,  and 
for  the  man,  her  husband,  whom 
God  had  sent  to  watch  over  her. 
For  she  knew  that  it  was  he  who 
had  saved  her,  and  she  laid  hold 
of  the  well-omened  heather  drawn 
through  the  ring  as  a  promise 
that  God  was  at  the  last  clearing 
the  dark  and  cloudy  soul  and 
winning  it  back  to  the  light. 

She  knew  not  that  she  had 
offered  herself  a  sacrifice  to  the 
evil  spirit  that  held  possession  of 
Uchtred's  heart ;  and  that  in  the 
dark,  around  her  prostrate  body, 


Of  the  Hills.  149 

Uchtred  had  waged  a  war  with 
the  Accuser  of  the  Brethren. 
Only  Belus  yet  clave  to  him. 

But  Philippa  was  glad  when 
she  saw  her  husband's  rinn^.  She 
took  that  which  he  had  brouG^ht 
her  as  a  love  token.  She  ate  the 
berries  slowly,  lifting  them  one 
by  one  to  her  mouth  so  that  any 
at  a  distance  might  see  her,  and 
after  that  she  drank  the  water  to 
the  last  drop  ere  she  rose  to  go. 
The  morning  was  clear  and  bright 
—  a  mornincj:  without  clouds  — 
and  Clashdaan  was  not  a  silent 
place  any  more.  I'^or  the  lark 
sang  in   the  lift,  and  in  the  heart 


ISO      Mad  Sir  Ucbtred. 

also  of    Philippa  a  little  silvery 
peal  of  joybells  rang. 

So  she  went  down  the  moun- 
tain, led  by  love  and  the  Master 
of  Love,  till  she  found  her  people 
waiting  her.  Then  she  mounted 
and  rode  homeward  to  Garthland 
to  await  God's  promise. 


CHAPTER   XI. 


HUNTED    WITH    DOGS. 


HE  great  day  broke.  In 
distant  steadings  there 
was  a  stirring  of  cheer- 
ful men.  Uchtred  sat  on  Clash- 
daan  and  saw  the  milkmaid  call 
the  cattle.  He  watched  the  blue 
peat-reek  go  upward  when  the 
pots  were  set  a-boiling  for  the 
early  break  of  fast.  On  the  hill- 
side opposite  the  red  fox  looked 
out  of  her  den,  and  the  Wild 
Man  saw.  I  le  marked  the  white 
>5' 


152       Mad  Sir  Ucbtred 

mountain-hare  drop  into  her 
form,  and  knew  the  moment 
when  his  hand  would  tighten 
about  her  neck  as  surely  as 
though  he  already  heard  her 
scream  with  terror  like  a  babe. 

It  was  the  day  when  Randolph 
Dowall  was  to  hunt  his  brother. 
With  bloodhound  and  with 
swart  hill -gypsy  the  Wild  Man 
was  to  be  run  down,  for  only  so 
could  Randolph  win  to  the  heri- 
tasre.  Also  he  desired  to  wed  his 
brother's  wife.  At  the  thought 
his  heart  became  as  water,  so 
greatly  did  he  yearn  for  her. 
Randolph  knew  that  in  the  fair 


Of  tbe  Hills.  153 

dvvelHns:  of  Garthland  was  no 
security  with  Uchtred  ranging  at 
his  wild  will  on  Clashdaan.  Dead 
on  the  mountain-side  he  desired 
to  see  him,  or  chained  in  the 
madman's  cell,  where  there  are 
ways  and  means  for  the  accom- 
plishment of  desire.  Either  was 
well. 

So  the  hunt  was  up,  and  from 
Clashdaan  Mad  Sir  Uchtred  saw 
them  come.  He  marked  them 
track  the  covert  by  the  burnside 
and  scatter  at  the  first  steep  rise 
of  the  mountain  land.  The  great 
bloodhounds  were  held  in  leash. 
The   common   sort  scoured   the 


154       Mad  Sir  Uchtred 

hill,  raising  the  hare  in  their 
track.  A  great  company  of  law- 
less and  godless  men  followed 
them  —  such  as  had  often  fol- 
lowed himself  when  there  was  a 
Whig  to  harry. 

In  the  midst,  in  a  blue  cloak 
banded  with  gold  and  girt  with 
a  sword,  Uchtred  saw  his  blood 
brother;  and  from  his  watch- 
tower  he  gnashed  upon  him  with 
his  teeth  for  mingled  hate  and 
joy.  Overhead  the  ravens  circled 
and  croaked. 

Uchtred  pointed  out  the  hunt- 
ers to  the  wild  cat  in  his  arms. 

"  Braw      work ! "      he     cried. 


Of  tbe  Hills.  155 

"  Hearken  to  the  corbies  crying 
at  the  break  of  day.  The  hills 
were  red  with  the  sun  in  the 
morn.  Red  the  heather  shall 
be  or  the  even.  Quick  death 
to  the  common  cattle  that  are 
driven  to  the  hunt,  but  to  the 
brother  that  hunts  the  man  that 
moved  with  him  in  one  mother's 
side  —  a  slow,  slow  death,  Belus, 
my  god.  We  shall  wait  and  see 
the  corbies  pyke  his  een,  and 
watch  and  watch  till  the  hill-fox 
i^naws  his  white  banes.  And 
hear  and  hear  the  cry  of  the 
Ijrother  that  hunts  his  twin  with 
the  dogs  of  war."      And  tb.c  wild 


156       Mad  Sir  Uc hired 

cat  lipped  him  as  though  she 
understood. 

"We  shall  hear  him  cry, 
Eelus,  my  god  —  cry  for  death, 
not  for  life  —  for  the  death  that 
will  not  come." 

Uchtred  crouched  still  in  his 
lair  on  Clashdaan  and  the  hunt 
circled  about  him.  The  dogs 
had  crossed  the  tracks  of  the 
day  before  and  were  at  a  loss, 
scattering  wide  for  a  scent,  for 
Uchtred  whom  they  chased  had 
not  stirred  from  his  lair  in  the 
Wolf's  Slock  that  morning. 

He  waited  till  the  hunters 
were  scattered    over    Clashdaan 


Of  ibe  Hills.  i57 

with  a  great  crying  that  set  the 
whaups  circling  and  the  eagles 
yelling  to  the  tune  of  the  dogs. 

But  when  his  brother,  habited 
in  the  blue-and-gold,  came  near 
to  him,  Uchtred  sprang  up  and 
stood  erect  on  a  rock.  The 
wild  cat  leapt  to  his  shoulder 
and  couched  grinning. 

Then  Uchtred  of  Garthland 
laughed  a  rough  laugh  like  the 
clackin^  of  dead  men's  bones. 
And   the  hunt  stopped  all  over 

the  hill. 

"  Welcome,  brother,"  cried 

the    madman,  i)()inting  at    the 

man    in    blue.  Uchtred  Want- 


158       Mad  Sir  Uchtred 

ing-wit  yammered  and  splut- 
tered in  his  rage,  and  his  hate 
was  not  Hke  the  hate  of  a  sane 
man,  but  far  more  terrible. 
Randolph  Dowall  blew  upon 
his  horn  and  gave  the  order  to 
close  upon  the  quarry.  Hear- 
ing his  voice,  the  madman 
laughed  again  and  cried: 

"  Hast  thou  brought  thy  god 
with  thee,  Randolph  ?  See,  I 
have  mine,"  he  cried,  and  from 
his  shoulder  the  eyes  of  the 
wild  beast  shone  fierce  and 
yellow  even  in  the  sunshine. 

"  Take  him,  take  him !  alive 
or   dead ! "    cried    the    brother ; 


Of  the  Hills.  159 

and   with  good  will  to  gain  the 
reward  the  huntsmen  turned. 

But  swifter  than  the  moun- 
tain-hare, circling  and  sweeping 
like  a  bird,  fled  the  fleet-foot 
Wild  Man.  Now  bent  double 
on  the  steep  garries,  erect  on 
the  level  stretches,  or  headlong 
down  the  precipices,  the  mad- 
man sped.  He  ran  unscathed 
on  the  points  of  flinty  rocks. 
He  skimmed  the  green  swelter 
of  the  bottomless  shaking  bogs. 
He  returned  upon  his  accusers, 
and  mocked  them,  gibbering  at 
them  like  the  wikl  thing  that  sat 
immovable  upon  his  shoulder. 


i6o       Mad  Sir  Uchtred 

Once  he  met  a  bloodhound 
face  to  face  and  sprang  over  it, 
speeding  away  ere  the  lumber- 
ins:  beast  could  turn.  Thus  he 
played  with  the  hunters  by  the 
hour. 

They  shot  with  their  muskets 
bullets  of  lead  and  buttons  of 
silver  at  him,  and  the  marks- 
men said  that  they  could  see 
them  hopping  off  him  like  hail 
from  a  roof  of  tiles. 

So  the  day  spent  itself,  while 
all  about  the  hill  was  a  great 
crying  and  the  hunt  was  up. 
For  the  reward  was  doubled 
every  hour   and    the   men   kept 


Of  the  Hills.  i6i 

on.  Randolph  Dowall  cried 
loud  his  orders,  and  overhead 
the  corbies  cried  also. 

Once  more  there  came  a 
shouting,  and  Randolph  saw 
the  group  collect  that  told  him 
that  something  at  last  was  found. 
He  hastened  thither,  and  there 
amonGf  the  heather  was  the  best 
of  his  bloodhounds,  with  the 
head  bent  back  loose  and  limp 
on  his  body.  So  one  and 
another  was  found ;  but  Ran- 
dolph, playing  his  last  cast  for 
Garthland  and  the  lady  of  it, 
hunted  Clashdaan  till  he  hunted 
it  alone.     The   star   oi  eve  was 


M 


1 62       Mad  Sir  Ucbtred. 

looking  out  when  on  the  side 
of  the  Black  Garry,  where  peril- 
ously the  grey  stones  are  poised, 
his  foot  set  a  boulder  rolling 
and  he  fell.  Headlong  he  fell 
till  he  was  caught  in  a  cleft 
and  the  stone  fell  upon  his  leg. 
He  heard  the  sharp  grind  of 
bones  that  snap,  and  the  life 
within  him  seemed  to  crack  like 
a  matchlock  at  the  back  of  his 
ear. 


CHAPTER  XII. 


BROTHER    AND    BROTHER. 


^'J^lf  HEN  Randolph  Dowall 
awoke  there  was  a 
i)  mighty  stillness.  The 
hills  were  grey  dark,  and  he 
heard  no  sound  except  the  rush 
of  a  waterfall  very  far  away.  Ran- 
dolph Dowall  wondered  where  he 
was.  Then  he  remembered  that 
he  was  on  the  side  of  Clashdaan 
with  a  broken  leg.  The  stars 
were  winking  above,  and  his  eyes 
grew  accustomed  to  the  dim  light. 
1 03 


164       Mad  Sir  Uchtred 

He  was  wet  with  the  dew  and  he 
shivered. 

He  lay  in  a  cleft  between  two 
deep  walls  of  rock,  and  he  looked 
up  the  chasm  through  which  he 
had  fallen.  There  was  a  spark 
of  steady  fire  there.  In  a  little 
he  saw  two.  He  could  not  take 
away  his  eyes.  A  grey  shape 
grew  slowly  out  of  the  darkness. 
Randolph  Dowall  saw  the  mat- 
ted locks,  the  naked  arms,  the 
twisted  limbs  of  his  mad  brother ; 
and  on  his  shoulder  a  black  and 
horrible  beast  with  glowing  eyes. 
Randolph  moved  his  body  as 
though  he  would  have  fled  from 


Of  the  Hills,  165 

the  horror.  He  prayed  that  God 
might  take  him  quick  to  hell, 
and  hide  him  far  away  from  the 
face  of  the  brother  whom  he  had 
hunted  with  hounds  and  whose 
wife  he  had  coveted  and  tempted. 
He  tried  to  speak,  but  his  tongue 
was  a  stick  and  clove  to  the  roof 
of  his  mouth.  He  tried  to  pray ; 
but  the  fiery  eyes  set  steadily, on 
him  in  the  darkness  of  Clashdaan 
sucked  his  heart  empty  of  prayer. 
That  there  was  no  pity  for  him 
in  the  universe,  he  knew.  So 
the  brothers  watched  one  another 
the  night  through,  silent,  in  the 
hate  of  each  other,  on  Clashdaan 


1 66       Mad  Sir  Uchtred 

where  it  is  very  silent.  Only  a 
raven  hopped  about  and  whetted 
a  great  beak,  sharp  as  a  pick, 
upon  the  dark  rocks. 

Then  at  last  Uchtred  of  Garth- 
land  crawled  nearer  and  looked 
into  his  brother's  soul ;  and  it 
was  to  Randolph  Dowall  as 
though  Death  himself  had  low- 
ered a  bony  face  beside  his  own 
and  looked  him  in  the  eyes. 

"  Uchtred,"  he  pleaded,  win- 
ning to  speech  at  last  in  his 
despair,  "  do  you  remember  that 
you  and  I  ran  about  the  braes 
together  ? " 

But  the  madman  only  laughed, 


Of  ibe  Hills.  167 

a  laugh  terrible  and  derisive,  and 
below  one  of  the  dying  blood- 
hounds lifted  up  his  head  and 
howled.  This  Randolph  took 
for  answer.  He  had  hunted  his 
brother  with  doijs. 

Then  the  pain  of  his  crushed 
leg  was  so  great  that  Randolph 
had  cried  aloud,  but  that  he 
was  afraid  of  the  raven  with 
the  beak  of  steel.  "  Uchtred," 
he  said  again,  "think  of  the 
wife  who  has  lain  in  your  bosom, 
and  waits  you  now  at  Garth! and. 
Have  i^ity." 

And  the  Wild  Man  crept 
nearer  to  his  brother  till  he  was 


i68       Mad  Sir  Uchlred 

squatted,  a  hideous  shape,  at 
his  very  head.  And  then  there 
came  to  Randolph  a  memory 
of  how  he  had  tried  to  win 
that  brother's  wife  from  her  alle- 
Q:iance,  followinQ-  her  in  bower 
and  hall,  compassing  her  with 
observance,  that  he  might  win 
to  his  brother's  seat  and  lie  in 
his  brother's  bed. 

And  beneath  them  the 
wounded  dog  howled  again  for 
answer. 

"  The  little  children  —  the 
bairns  at  Garthland  —  Helen 
and  Isbel,  and  Pierce  that  rides 
on    a    horse    like    a   man,    have 


Of  I  be  Hills.  169 

you    forgotten    them,     Uchtred, 
my  brother  ? " 

So  hopelessly  and  pitifully  he 
tried  to  rouse  the  madman  to 
mercy.  But  the  rather  he  an- 
gered him  instead.  He  reached 
out  a  cold  and  clammy  hand  to 
his  brother's  throat.  Randolph 
shuddered  as  the  wet  and  hairy 
hand  clutched  at  him, plucking  at 
his  throat.  It  was  like  a  beast's 
claw.  For  a  moment  his  life 
wavered  in  the  balance  like  an 
aspen  leaf  on  an  October  gos- 
samer, for  the  spirit  of  the  wild 
beast  on  his  shoulder  had  en- 
tered into  Uchtred  the  madman. 


170       Mad  Sir  Uchircd 

But  he  withdrew  his  hand, 
for  in  the  darkness  far  down  he 
heard  a  bell  ring.  He  lifted 
his  head  and  listened.  Yes,  he 
heard  it ;  he  —  Mad  Uchtred 
of  Garthland.  It  was  a  sweet 
church-bell.  When  had  he  heard 
it  —  surely  long  ago,  in  another 
life }  It  was  the  church-bell  at 
Kirkchrist,  and  he  heard  his 
mother's  voice  calling  him  from 
his  play,  "  Come,  Uchtred ;  come, 
Randolph !  Be  ready  to  go  to 
the  house  of  God  in  company." 

So  wild  Sir  Uchtred  with- 
drew himself  from  his  brother 
a  little  way  and  sat  on  a  knoll 


Of  tbe  Hills.  171 

to  think  over  the  matter.  It 
was  not  possible  to  hear  the 
rin2:inor  of  the  Kirkchrist  bell 
from  the  steeps  of  Clashclaan. 
The  grey  inconceivable  night 
swarmed  about  him  with  voices. 
The  hounds  of  hell  gave  tongue 
in  his  brain. 

"  Kill  him  !  "  they  cried  ;  "  he 
is  in  thy  power.  He  hunted 
thee  with  dogs.  He  sought  to 
take  thy  heritage  and  thy  wife 
—  to   dispossess  thy  children." 

The  beast  on  his  shoulder 
lipped  him  in  a  wild  caress  and 
put  the  yearning  of  her  fierce 
blood  into  him. 


172       Mad  Sir  Ucbired 

But  ever  through  the  sweet 
stinging  thoughts  of  his  brother's 
life,  ebbing  under  his  hands,  as 
that  of  the  hounds  had  ebbed 
that  day,  there  came  hindering 
him  the  sweet  bells  of  Christ's 
Kirk  of  Machermore ;  and  the 
voice  of  a  mother  called  her  lit- 
tle lads  from  the  playing-fields: 
"  Uchtred  !  Randolph  !  come 
hither  to  me."  And  for  a  mo- 
ment in  the  madman's  eyes  some- 
thing other  than  madness  woke. 

The  wild  cat  leapt  from  his 
shoulder  and  prowled  restlessly 
up  and  down,  trailing  a  limb. 
Her  head  was  low  down  to  the 


Of  the  Hills.  173 

o-round.  She  went  and  snuffed 
at  the  wounded  man's  face. 

"Belus,"  cried  Uchtred  of 
Garthland,  quickly,  "  come 
hither ! "  But  first  the  beast 
laid  a  broad  foot  like  velvet 
on  the  neck  of  Randolph,  and 
throudi  the  velvet  like  a  circle 
of  steel  points  he  felt  the  un- 
sheathed claws.  The  three- 
pointed  scarlet  mark  stood  out 
ever  after  on  the  paleness  of  his 
skin. 

Apart  on  a  knoll  Mad  Uch- 
tred sat,  and  the  universe  worked 
turbidly  about  him  and  within. 
Sometimes  he  heard  the  thunder 


174       Mad  Sir  Uchtred 

rattle,  and  anon  it  changed  into 
the  thinner  noise  of  musketry. 
He  was  giving  the  order  to  fire. 
The  hill  folk  were  kneeling  on 
the  brown  bent  with  the  nap- 
kins about  their  eyes.  Then  he 
heard  a  loud  silence,  and  through 
the  thunder-cloud  the  face  of  very 
God  looked  throuo;h  to  see  Uch- 
tred  Dowall's  handiwork  dabbled 
with  something  dark,  lying  on 
the  heather  where  the  martyrs 
had  fallen.  And  Uchtred  of 
Garthland  for  the  first  time  un- 
derstood some  part  of  his  pun- 
ishment. 

Before    him    the    lame    beast 


Of  the  Hills.  175 

prowled  restlessly  and  trailed  a 
limb.  At  his  feet,  a  little  way 
off,  his  brother  moaned  without 
hope.  Yet  in  a  moment  the 
ereat  thunder-cloud  of  his  black 
life  rolled  itself  up  like  a  scroll, 
and  passed  away  in  burning  fire. 
The  clear  spaces  of  the  heavens 
brightened  with  a  calmer  radi- 
ance.  He  saw  his  brother's  face 
nearer.  It  was  grey  and  pallid 
like  the  face  of  a  man  upon  his 
bier.  It  made  him  think  of  his 
father  stretched  out  as  he  had 
seen  him  with  the  corpse-lights 
burnino-  about  him.  He  had  not 
thought  Randolph  like  his  father 


1^6       Mad  Sir  Uchtred 

before,  but  the  likeness  came  out 
plainly  now. 

The  heavens  spread  a  great 
clearness  over  his  head.  The 
stars  vv^ithdrew  themselves  fur- 
ther from  him.  The  day-break 
grew  more  conspicuous.  The 
wild,  maimed  beast  prowled  fur- 
ther off.  Again  he  heard  the 
church-bells  ring,  and  his  moth- 
er's voice  callino:  as  from  the 
sky,  "  Uchtred!  Randolph!  come 
hither  to  me."  His  brother  lay 
beneath  him  in  the  clear  morn- 
ing —  the  brother  that  had 
hunted  him;  and,  lo!  he  did  not 
hate  him  any  more.     He  looked 


Of  the  Hills.  177 

about  for  Belus ;  but  the  wild 
thins:  had  left  him  and  he  was 

O 

alone  with  his  brother,  and  with 
such  thoughts  of  his  mother  as 
he  had  not  thought  for  years. 

Wild  Uchtred  came  nearer  to 
his  brother.  There  was  a  great 
stone  crushing  his  leg  as  it  had 
bruised  it  all  night.  Randolph 
lay  back  with  his  eyes  closed  — 
white  as  though  already  in  the 
sleep  of  death.  Uchtred  set  his 
streno-th  to  the  stone  and  dis- 
lodged  it  easily  as  a  child's  ball. 
It  went  bounding  down  the  gorge, 
and  the  echoes  clashed  upwards. 

His    brother's    broad  hat   had 

N 


178       Mad  Sir  Ucblred 

fallen  aside  and  lay  on  the 
heather.  Uchtred  took  it  and 
filled  it  at  a  spring  among  the 
rocks.  Then  he  came  again 
and  gave  his  brother  to  drink. 
He  took  a  hunting-knife  and 
cut  away  his  brother's  foot-gear. 
The  foot  swung  loose  and  soft, 
but  swollen  and  discoloured. 
There  came  back  to  Sir  Uchtred 
some  of  his  ancient  skill  as  a 
leech.  He  took  his  brother's 
foot  in  both  his  hands,  moving 
it  from  side  to  side.  Randolph 
Dowall  moaned  with  the  access 
of  pain,  and  the  face  of  him 
twitched. 


Of  the  Hills.  179 

With  a  sudden  access  of 
determination,  Uchtred  set  his 
knee  to  the  rock  and  pulled. 
The  joint  shot  back  with  the 
noise  of  a  pistol  snapping,  and 
his  brother  gave  a  lamentable 
cry.  But  the  madman  had  set 
the  limb. 

Thus  the  heart  of  the  man 
whom  they  had  counted  a  beast 
and  hunted  with  dogs  awoke  to 
pity.  He  laid  his  brother's  head 
higher,  and  wove  strips  of  the 
torn  clothing  which  he  had  cut 
from  the  limb  for  a  bandai^e  for 
the  wound.  Then  he  pillowed 
his  brother's  head  upon  a  bundle 


i8o       Mad  Sir  Ucbtred. 

of  heather,  that  it  might  rest 
more  easily.  And  ever  in  his 
head  rang  the  bells  of  Macher- 
more,  and  the  voice  of  his 
mother  cried  to  him,  "  Uchtred ! 
go  thou  and  heljD  thy  brother  to 
rise,  for  he  is  fallen." 


CHAPTER   XIII. 


WHERE    A    LITTLE    CHILD    SHALL 
LEAD. 


^¥/vi#ND    Mad    Sir    Uchtred 


Sabbath  morn,  and  he  knew  not 
where  to  go.  Over  the  moor 
and  the  hill  he  sped  him,  till 
he  found  himself  by  the  little 
church  of  Kirkchrist,  near  the 
side  of  the  water  of  Cree  —  for 
in  the  three  years  that  Uchtred 
had     been    a    beast    upon    the 


i»i 


1 82       Mad  Sir  Uc hired 

mountains  the  curse  of  the 
Stuarts  had  passed  away. 
There  once  was  as^ain  a  sound 
of  sweet  singing  in  the  kirk, 
with  no  man  to  make  the  wor- 
shippers afraid.  Uchtred  came 
near,  and  sat  with  his  face  be- 
tween his  hands.  He  caught 
the       words        clearly.        They 


God  is  our  refuge  and  our  strength, 

In  straits  a  present  aid  ; 
Therefore  although  the  earth  remove, 

We  will  not  be  afraid. 

They  were  the  very  words  he 
had    heard    ere   he    had    ridden 


Of  the  Hills.  183 

into  the  kirk  of  Kirkchrist. 
Alexander  Renfield  was  again 
in  his  own  pulpit.  He  had 
opened  that  which  he  had 
closed,  and  which  none  had  en- 
tered since  the  day  on  which  he 
laid  his  arrestment  upon  the  pul- 
pit door  and  the  curse  of  God 
fell.  God  had  indeed  been  the 
refuge  and  the  strength  of  his 
people;  and  though  some  had 
died  with  the  bandages  about 
their  eyes,  and  some  looking 
into  the  belching  mouths  of  the 
muskets,  yet  they  had  not  been 
afraid. 

But  they  were  far  more  afraid 


1 84       Mad  Sir  Uchtred 

that  day  when  they  told  Alexan- 
der Renfield  that  the  mad  perse- 
cutor was  without,  sitting  with 
his  head  between  his  knees. 

"  The  Lord  hath  bowed  him," 
said  Alexander  Renfield;  "per- 
haps He  hath  brought  him  here 
this  day  that  his  devil  may  be 
cast  out.  All  things  are  possi- 
ble to  God.  Our  God  is  a  strong 
Lord." 

They  told  him  that  none  dared 
to  go  near. 

"  Let  us  sing  the  songs  of 
David,"  he  said.  "  It  may  be 
that  as  the  evil  spirit  left  Saul 
at   the    sound    of    the    harp    of 


Of  the  Hills.  185 

David,  so  he  may  flee  away 
from  the  singing  of  the  holy 
psalm." 

So  they  sang  sweet  songs  of 
repentance  and  return,  to  old 
tunes  which  Uchtred  of  Garth- 
land  had  sung  when  he  was  an 
innocent  boy  and  went  to  the 
house  of  God  with  his  mother. 
Then  they  sang  the  song  which 
every  child  in  Scotland  learns 
first,  and  every  Scottish  ancient 
dies  with  upon  his  lips : 

The  Lord's  my  shepherd,  I'll  not  want ; 

He  makes  me  down  to  lie 
In  pastures  green ;  he  leadeth  me 

The  quiet  waters  by. 


1 86       Mad  Sir  Ucbtred 

Then  they  told  Alexander 
Renfield  that  they  heard  the 
madman  weeping  like  a  lost 
soul  an  hour  after  the  Doom 
is  sealed. 

"  God  is  loosening  his  chains," 
said  the  preacher,  "  and  break- 
ing his  bands  in  sunder.  Let 
us  pray." 

And  all  the  people  stood  and 
prayed  with  bowed  heads.  A 
tremor  passed  over  them  all 
when  they  saw  Uchtred  of 
Garthland,  whom  yesterday  the 
hunters  had  hunted  with  dogs, 
fling  up  his  hands  above  his 
head  and  fall  prone  on  the  earth. 


Of  the  Hills.  1S7 

"  Bide  ye  here,"  said  the  minis- 
ter ;  "  I  will  go  to  him  and 
speak  with  him." 

But  they  pled  on  him  not  to 
do  the  thing ;  for  they  said, 
"  Surely  he  will  turn  and  rend 
thee." 

But  Alexander  Renfield  put 
them  aside,  saying,  "  God  has 
bidden  me.  His  servant,  go 
to  speak  with  the  man  whom 
He  hath  cursed."  So  he  went 
towards  the  madman  ;  but  when 
Uchtred  saw  him  come  he  rose 
up  and  fled  away  with  exceed- 
ing swiftness. 

So    the    minister    turned    him 


1 88       Mad  Sir  Uchtred 

about  and  came  back.  "  We 
have  not  prayed  enough.  Our 
faith  is  weak.  Let  us  return  to 
our  solemn  exercises,"  he  said. 

Then  it  came  to  Alexander 
Renfield  from  the  Lord  that 
they  should  send  for  the  Lady 
of  Garthland.  And  so  they 
brou2:ht  her  from  the  meetinsf- 
house  where  by  stealth  and 
hood-winking  permission  they 
still  held  prelatic  services. 

Philippa  came  leading  babe 
Isbel  in  her  hand,  and  wise 
Helen  walked  sedately  by.  But 
Pierce  ran  on  before. 

When  she  came  and  saw  her 


Of  the  Hills.  189 

husband,  she  laid  her  hand  on 
her  heart  to  still  it,  and  said 
to  the  people,  "  Sing  again  to 
him,  and  I  will  lead  you  in 
the  psalm  which  I  taught  the 
children." 

So  as^ain  there  arose  the  sweet 
sound  of  singing  in  that  wild 
place ;  and,  as  though  drawn  by 
the  bands  of  a  man,  Uchtred  of 
Garthland  again  drew  near. 

Then  the  Lady  Philippa  took 
Pierce  by  the  hand  to  bid  him 
go  to  his  father  and  take  him 
by  the  hand. 

"  Little  Pierce,"  she  said,  "  my 
son  —  go  thou  and  take  by  the 


iQo      Mad  Sir  Uchired 

hand  that  man  who  sits  naked 
on  the  brae,  girt  about  with 
skins,  and  lead  him  hither.  He 
is  thy  father !  " 

And  the  people  cried  on 
her  bitterly,  saying,  "  He  will 
assuredly  kill  the  child  and  tear 
him  to  pieces." 

But  the  child's  mother,  though 
her  heart  yearned  over  her  first- 
born son,  who  was  even  yet  but 
a  babe,  turned  and  rebuked 
them,  saying,  "  Let  the  child  do 
his  mother's  will  and  God's. 
Who  are  ye  to  say  the  Almighty 
and  Philippa  Dovvall  nay !  " 

For  her   husband  was  to  her 


Of  the  Hills.  191 

only  less  than  her  God.  Some- 
times she  prayed  that  he  might 
indeed  be  less. 

So  little  Pierce  Dowall,  who 
was  five  years  old  and  had  never 
known  fear,  went  to  obey  his 
mother.  It  was  a  little  thing  to 
bid  a  man  rise  up  and  come  to 
his  mother,  while  all  stood  afar 
off  and  waited  to  see  what  the 
end  would  be. 

The  boy  went  slowly,  looking 
briskly  up  the  while  to  see  the 
man  he  was  to  brins:.  Uchtred 
lifted  his  head  and  was  staring 
at  the  lad  through  the  matted 
locks    upon    his   head    and    the 


192       Mad  Sir  Uchtred 

wilderness  of  his  beard.  He 
half  rose  to  flee.  But  little 
Pierce  Dowall  waved  his  hand 
and  cried  to  him,  "  Do  not  be 
afraid,  poor  man.  I  will  give 
you  my  hand  and  not  hurt  you 
at  all ! " 

So,  though  he  was  truly  greatly 
afraid,  Uchtred  of  Garthland 
waited.  The  little  one  came 
close  up  to  him,  and  put  out 
his  hand.  He  took  it  and  stood 
up  his  own  man  again,  and  God's, 
because  his  own  little  child  had 
taken  him  by  the  hand. 

"  Now  come  with  me  ! "  Pierce 
said ;    and,  like  one   who  obeys 


Of  the  Hills.  193 

without  questioning,  he  followed. 
Then  when    he  saw  him  come, 
the  minister  caught  up  his  great 
cloak,  which  he  had  used  to  wrap 
about  himself  in  the  hill  caves, 
and  went  forward  to  meet  Uch- 
tred.      When  Pierce  came  lead- 
ins:  the  man  that  had  been  mad 
and  accursed,  Alexander  Renfield 
threw  the  great  cloak  about  his 
shoulders.     Then  taking  him  by 
the  other  hand  and  coming  near 
to  the  people  he  said,  "  Let  us 
pray ; "  and  all  the  people  stood 
up  to  pray.     Only  Pierce  kneeled 
because  he  was  but  a  little  child, 
and  with  him  in  the  midst  kneeled 


194       Mad  Sir  Ucblred 

Sir  Uchtred  of  Garthland,  and 
Philippa  his  wife  sank  on  her 
knees  beside  him  and  set  her 
wifely  arm  about  his  neck. 

And  when  she  arose  the  evil 
spirit  from  the  Lord  had  gone 
out  of  him.  His  tongue  was 
loosed,  and  twelve  strong  men 
were  sent  to  bring  his  brother 
home  from  off  Clashdaan. 

Then  they  all  fell  on  his  neck, 
kissing  and  weeping  —  all  save 
his  little  son  Pierce,  who  said, 
"  Now  shall  my  father  ride  with 
me,  and  I  shall  be  his  com- 
panion." Now  Philippa  lived 
long  and  happily  with   Uchtred, 


1^ 


Of  the  Hills.  195 

and  he  was  a  wise  man  and 
great  in  the  land,  though  he 
never  loved  the  Whigs  or  the 
Dutch.  And  his  wife  never 
thought  that  she  had  done  any 
great  thing.  But  God  knew, 
and  also  Uchtred  of  Garthland, 
whom  they  had  hunted  with 
dogs  in  the  wild  places  of  Clash- 
daan. 


yUST  PUBLISHED.     A    NEW  NOVEL. 


THE    WINGS    OF    ICARUS. 

Being  the  Life  of  one  Emilia  Fletcher, 
as  revealed  by  herself  in 

I.     Thirty-five  Letters  written  to  Constance  Norris  be- 
tween July  i6,  188-,  and  March  26  of  the  following 
year. 
IL     A  Fragmentary  Journal. 
IlL    A  Postscript. 

BY 

LAURENCE   ALMA  TADEMA. 


ISmo.    Cloth,  gilt  top.     Price  SI. 25. 


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Bulletin. 

"  It  is  exquisite  in  style,  spontaneous  and  well-sustained 
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SECOND  EDITION. 


THE   RAIDERS. 

Being  Some  Passages  in  the  Life  of  John  Faa,  Lord  and 
Earl  of  Little  Egypt. 


BY  S.   R.   CROCKETT, 

The  Stickit  Minister,  and  S( 
Men." 

ISmo.     Cloth.    $1.50. 


Author  of  "  The  Stickit  Minister,  and  Some  Common 
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"A  delightful  tale  of  love  and  adventure."  —  A'^.  Y. 
Times. 

"  He  has  written  a  story  of  really  absorbing  interest."  — 
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"  '  The  Raiders  '  vibrates  with  sufficient  dramatic  action 
for  a  dozen  ordinary  novels.  We  are  swept  breathlessly 
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out the  story  runs  a  vein  of  heedlessness  and  reckless 
daring  that  intensifies  the  boldness  of  the  effect."  — 
Outlook. 

"  The  author  shows  a  keen  sense  of  humor,  complete 
mastering  of  the  Scottish  dialect  peculiarities,  and  a  most 
bold  and  picturesque  sense  of  dramatic  eftect,  with  a  power 
and  vividness  in  the  delineation  of  character  rarely  found 
in  a  writer  so  gifted  in  the  narration  of  tales  of  swift,  dra- 
matic movement,  and  a  literary  skill  rare  in  writers  of  any 
class."  —  A'^.  Y.  Comniercinl  Advertiser. 


BY  THE  SAME  AUTHOR. 


THE    STICKIT    MINISTER,    AND 
SOME   COMMON   MEN. 

Second   Edition.       i2mo.      Cloth.      Uniform    with  "  The 
Raiders."     Price  »1.50. 


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"  Full  of  a  dry,  delicious  humor  are  they,  with  here  and 
there  a  depth  of  pathos  that  is  all  the  more  effective  because 
of  its  lucid  simplicity  and  the  quietness  and  dignity  of  its 
sorrow."  —  Chicago  Evening  Post. 


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